


I Will Not Bow

by Mykael



Series: Lost In The Echo [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batwoman (Comic)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, Assassination, Crime Fighting, Drama, Fights, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Organized Crime, Revenge, Secret Organizations, Vigilantism, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:15:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25628815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mykael/pseuds/Mykael
Summary: That was Kate’s goal now; to beat Grave to a bloody pulp, and drag them into the light of the sun for all to see. Grave had sent a message to her, so she was going to send one back; “Fucking with me was a mistake. You’re going to bleed for it.” Or the older, more appropriatehell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Series: Lost In The Echo [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1211799
Comments: 40
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This took a bit longer to do that I had anticipated. I've got the main story for this one mapped out, all that's missing is the meat, basically. As well as a few other things. So I'm just going to keep writing and see what happens, heh. Anywho, enjoy! ^^

Nearly a year had passed since Jason had disappeared and that year had not been kind to Kate. She spent a week drinking, depressed and bereft of willpower. She felt like a failure; she adopted Jason to  _help_ him, and now he was gone and she didn’t know if he was alive or dead. But that didn’t last long; a single visit from her father, and a reminder of  _ who she was _ , was enough to help her pull herself back up.

Kathrine Kane was a fighter; she didn’t back down from adversity, she challenged it head on, and shattered it. And so she knew she had to overcome this as well, and she used the hope that Jason was still alive as fuel. Grave had thought they had broken her with their little stunt; taking Jason and striking directly at her heart. All that they had accomplished, however, was waking a sleeping giant.

Batwoman became a  _ thorn  _ in Grave’s side. While Batman and Robin dealt with crime in the rest of Gotham City, she relentlessly pursued and put down Grave operations wherever she found them; they’d lit a fire inside her, and now they were paying the price for it.

But the blade cut both ways; when she pushed back against them, Grave pushed back against  _ her . _ A few attempts were made on her father’s life, but they were both prepared for Grave this time, so when they failed, Kate and Jacob hit back and  _ made it hurt. _ But that was only as far as their interests in Gotham were concerned. It was likely they were a global entity, but they’d been hiding in the shadows for so long, it was nearly impossible to root them out.

That was Kate’s goal now; to beat Grave to a bloody pulp, and drag them into the light of the sun for all to see. Grave had sent a message to her, so she was going to send one back; “Fucking with me was a mistake. You’re going to bleed for it.” Or the older, more appropriate  _ hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. _

Kate was in her Command Center at present, working on her computer and sifting through evidence and leads on Grave, putting the pieces together like a jigsaw puzzle. She was planning her next move against Grave, and striking at them in smaller ways in the meantime. But tonight, her work was interrupted, when Alfred appeared on her screen.

“Ah, Miss Kane, hard at work, I see?” Alfred asked. Kate flashed a smile and nodded, permitting the call through.

“I am indeed. What can I do for you?” she asked.

“I’d like to invite you to the manor for Christmas this year. I...understand the holiday’s have been difficult. But perhaps--”

“I’m sorry Alfred, I can’t. I’ve got too much work to do,” Kate interrupted. “Besides, I...without Jason--”

“It’s not the same. I understand,” Alfred cut in. Kate nodded in response. “The absence of young Master Jason has been...keenly felt. I’ve missed his energy around the manor, in the kitchen. He was, and forgive me for breaking my one rule, a pain in the arse,” Alfred said, to which Kate laughed out loud.

“He was. But he was  _our_ pain in the ass, wasn’t he, Alfred?” Kate asked, donning a smile. Alfred smiled in return and gave a nod.

“Know, Miss Kane, that the invitation remains open, should you change your mind.”

“Thank you, Alfred. Goodbye.” She ended the call on that note, and sighed, getting immediately back to work. Or she would have had an algorithm she and Bruce created cooperatively to track Grave activity hadn’t alerted her to some activity at the China Docks. 

She frowned as she looked at the camera footage; she couldn’t make out any Grave operatives, but some thugs were loading crates off from a cargo ship, onto the docks. Said crates were unmarked, but she guessed there were slaves in it, given Grave’s penchant for buying slaves. They still didn’t know what they were using them for, but it didn’t matter.

Kate rose from her chair at her computer and made her way to the lockers, where she donned her Batwoman gear and headed out to ruin Grave’s day once again.

* * *

Batwoman arrived at the docks to catch the thugs moving the crates under the cover of night. She sat back and watched them for a time, keeping a close eye on every movement she was able to track. No sign of Grave yet, but they always were good at hiding in the shadows, like cockroaches. 

While she opted to continue watching for a little while longer, her comm crackled to life with Oracle’s voice on the other end of it.

“Batwoman, do you read? It’s me, Oracle,” came the woman’s voice.

“I read you,” Batwoman replied, eyes still glued to the docks below as thugs moved crates to and fro. If nothing changed soon, she’d make a move, but she was certain Grave was involved.

“Listen, Batman just had a sighting of Deathstroke in the city,” Oracle started. Batwoman’s eyes narrowed; Deathstroke’s presence anywhere was never a good sign. But his presence here, while Grave was still a big threat would surely complicate matters further.

“Deathstroke? Great,” Batwoman quipped sarcastically.

“Yeah, and he appears to have a partner,” Oracle went on. Batwoman’s concentration on the docks broke.

“Deathstroke has a partner? Since when?” Batwoman asked, confused. Deathstroke almost  _ never  _ worked with anyone else.

“No idea, but he’s got someone garbed in black with him. Point is, be careful. They took off before Batman could engage them, but he saw this new guy in action, and he’s good. It could spell trouble if they come your way.” Batwoman frowned as she turned her attention back to the docks again.

“Alright, will do,” she answered.

“Oracle out--”

“Wait, I’ve been wondering something,” Batwoman asked, her lips canting slightly into a smirk. “You can walk again, so why not go back to being Batgirl?” There was a silence from Oracle’s end, followed by a chuckle of amusement.

“Well, it turns out, I rather enjoy being Oracle. I mean, I’ll still jump in as Batgirl when I’m needed, but I’ve got a great set up here, and have eyes all over Gotham. It’s a bit thrilling in its own way.”

“Heh, I hear that. You do good work, Oracle.”

“What can I say; technology is kinda my thing. Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it. Be careful. Oracle out.” Once the link was cut, Batwoman snuck down to the ground below; swinging through the air would be too obvious by now. She made her way through the docks, sticking to the shadows and followed where the crates were being taken.

There were a number of thugs with automatic weapons stationed outside of the largest warehouse on the docks, with the workers taking the crates inside it. Batwoman’s eyes narrowed, not having spotted a trace of Grave, but smelling their rot all over this operation. But before she could act, the sounds of combat rang out through the night from inside the warehouse. An explosion, some gunfire, and shouting prompted all of the thugs to stop their work, reach for their weapons and hurry inside the warehouse.

Batwoman’s curiosity was also piqued, and she took the opportunity to fire a line to the warehouse roof. She pulled herself up, and then slipped inside the building, looking down upon the mayhem below. There she saw Deathstroke, and his black clad partner taking on the thugs, but oddly, not making any killing moves.

“This would be a lot less of a pain if we just killed them. You and your damn morality,” Deathstroke complained, breaking a thug’s arm and swinging him into one of his buddies, sending both of them crashing into a pile of crates.

“I told you before,” the other replied, voice masked by a synthesizer “we’re only here for Grave, not these small time peons. They’re hardly worth the effort.” He turned to Deathstroke, and shrugged his shoulders, adding “besides, you’re not getting paid. Why’re you complaining? Since when do you work for free?

“A fair point. But still,” Deathstroke conceded. The black clad man gave a dismissive hand wave, the two of them seemingly unaware of Batwoman watching them from above. Batwoman, for her part, became even more curious; who was this man that he was able to convince Deathstroke to  _not_ kill someone? But more importantly, they seemed to be here hunting Grave. 

But Batwoman’s eyes drifted across the room, toward the cages where the slaves were held, practically thrown alongside crates of weapon and ammunition, as if they were nothing more than  _ possessions . _ But her attention is drawn again to the unusual duo below, back to their conversation.

“Go free the slaves, I’ll see if I can’t draw out Grave,” the black clad man ordered. Deathstroke snorted in response.

“Your ego is getting a little big for you, isn’t it, kid? Don’t give me orders,” Deathstroke snapped. The other man heaved a sigh and shook his head.

“ _ Please  _ go free the slaves,” the man asked, gesturing toward the cages. Deathstroke made a soft ‘hm’ sound, but moved toward the cages and slashed the metal bars with relative ease. Deathstroke gestured toward the exit, but the slaves hesitated; they were scared. And why wouldn’t they be? First with everything they’ve been through, and then, to be face-to-face (so to speak) with Deathstroke.

“It’s okay,” said the other man in a softer voice. He approached the slaves and slowly held out his hand, ignoring Deathstroke, who sighed impatiently. A young blond woman, no older than nineteen or twenty, took his hand and he carefully helped her out of the cage. “You’re safe now. You’re all free, and no one’s going to hurt you.”

“I may throw up,” Deathstroke commented. The man continued to ignore him as he coaxed them out of their cages. Batwoman watched this and couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing; that someone who worked with Deathstroke was being so... _ kind . _

“Deathstroke and his little apprentice, how quaint,” came a voice. Batwoman glanced over toward its source, and coming from  _ seemingly  _ nowhere, a Reaper approached.

“The name is Red X, and I’m  _not_ his apprentice,” the black clad man snapped.

“You kinda are, kid,” Deathstroke cut in. Red X seemingly ignored him and drew a pair of hand guns, stepping between The Reaper and his victims. The former slaves cowered behind Red X, scared as the Reaper approached. 

“Don’t be scared. He’s not going to hurt you,” Red X told them, prompting the Reaper to laugh.

“You shouldn’t tell lies. It’s  _ not very nice _ .” Red X moved to attack, but Deathstroke put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him.

“I’ll be taking this one,” Deathstroke commented. Batwoman’s eyes narrowed because she knew what would happen; Deathstroke would kill the assassin and she wasn’t going to let that happen. She dropped down from her hiding place, throwing six explosive batarangs, three from each hand, at the Reaper and at Deathstroke. Both of the assassins easily avoided her attack, the batarangs giving off small explosions as they struck the ground.

“Ah, Batwoman. I was wondering how long you were going to keep hiding,” Deathstroke taunted. Batwoman ignored him, her main focus on that Reaper.

“Somehow, I’m hardly surprised to see you here. You’ve been a thorn in our side for quite some time. It’s time for you to be removed,” The Reaper threatened, his tone low and menacing. He snapped his fingers and then Grims started pouring into the warehouse, about two dozen of them. “Kill them.”

Batwoman glanced back at Deathstroke and Red X, briefly, before she engaged the attacking Grims. She knew there was no way she could stop them from killing these assassins and held no delusions that she could match Deathstroke, let alone him  _ and  _ his partner. One problem at a time, however, and these Grims were priority number one.

She jumped into combat, ignoring Red X and Deathstroke as he kicked one away, punched another coming up from behind her, and ducked a sword strike, bending over backward and swinging her legs in a wide arc, taking out three more. 

The Reaper came at her and swung his sword at her, which she blocked with her gauntlet. But he brought a dagger in his other hand in an upward arc, attempting to slash her. She batted the attack aside with her other gauntlet and kicked the man in the stomach. The Reaper laughed in response and stepped back as five Grims charged in at her. Batwoman retreated a bit to give herself some room, distracted for just a moment as she watched Red X sticking close to the civilians they’d rescued, fending off any attackers.

She grunted as one of the Grims kicked her in the back. She stumbled forward but followed the momentum, spinning around and throwing several mini-grenades in her attackers’ path. As she hit the ground, she rolled with it, and then sprung backward, watching as the mini grenades exploded. Two of the pursuing Grims were tossed aside, but the other three persisted.

Batwoman drew a gun from the holster on her hip and with pinpoint precision, took down one of them with precise shots at the ankles and shoulders; electric bullets, non-lethal. The second and third were on her in moments, and though they were better trained than your run-of -the-mill thugs, she still fended them off with relative ease. But while she was focused on them, their Reaper leader took the opportunity to attack. Batwoman barely deflected a sword strike, then a dagger strike, caught off balance and forced onto the backfoot as she fought for an opening with which to retaliate and go back on the offense. 

The Reaper kicked at Batwoman’s shin during his attack. She cursed and faltered, and the Reaper took the opportunity to stab at her, but before his attack could land, Red X grabbed his arm and wrenched it behind his back until he dropped his sword.

“I don’t fucking think so,” Red X hissed, impaling the Reaper with his own sword.

“No! Why did you do that?!” Batwoman called out, standing before Red X, but making no move to attack. “You didn’t need to do that!” Red X was silent for a moment, and then glanced over in the direction of Grave’s victims, surrounded by the corpses of dead Grims, cowering in a corner. He turned his attention back to Batwoman and gestured toward them.

“Take care of them,” was all he said before he turned and started walking toward Deathstroke, who had just finished off the last of the Grims.

“That’s four Reapers you’ve killed now. The next one is mine. Do it again and I’ll kick you ass,” Deathstroke threatened. Red X snorted in response and waved his hand dismissively.

“Yeah, yeah, calm your cowl.”

“Wait. You saved those people,” Batwoman called after him, gesturing toward the freed captives. Why? And Why are you working with Deathstroke?” she asked. She needed answers, because none of this added up.

“Despite the circumstances, Deathstroke and I do not share much in common,” Red X started. Deathstroke sheathed his swords on his back and stood passively by, save for commenting “that’s one way to put it.” Red X ignored him however.

“Grave is irredeemably evil. And there’s only  _ one  _ way to deal with people like that. Deathstroke and I share a common goal; the destruction of Grave. That is all.” Red X turned his back on her and attempted to leave, but Batwoman wasn’t done yet.

“I can’t let you leave. You  _killed_ these people,” Batwoman called after both he and Deathstroke. They turned again and Deathstroke reached for his swords.

“You can’t stop us,” he replied in a low, deadly calm tone. Red X held up his hand to stop him, then slowly approached her until there was only a few feet between them. Batwoman remained unmoving, unflinching, watching this “Red X” carefully, but ready to act at a moment’s notice.

“I  _ don’t  _ want to fight you, Kate,” Red X claimed. Batwoman’s eyes widened slightly, but she managed to school her expression and her body language to give nothing away. But  _ how  _ did he know who she was?! It seemed like she was about to find out, as Red X reached for the back of his helmet. Slowly, he pulled it off to reveal his identity as--

“Jason…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh, kind of a moot ending, considering the last part of the series, lol. But the chapter was starting to get really long so I needed to wrap it up, and this seemed like a good place, lol.
> 
> I mentioned in the notes above that I have most of the story plotted out, but there's some bits I'm not entirely sure about, which is kind of unusual, lol. The main plot, obviously, is two-fold; dealing with Grave and dealing with/helping Jason. The part I'm not sure on, however, is the "romantic sub plot." There's probably gonna be one, because by now, I'm sure you all know I'm a hopeless romantic, lmao.
> 
> But I think this time, I'll let you guys have a say in it; should Dick and Jason get back together? Or perhaps something sparks between Roy and Jason, as the former drops everything to come and help his best friend? Or perhaps, romance just isn't in the cards for Jason right now? After all, he's got quite a bit to deal with. How this bit plays out depends on you guys. ^^ But, either way, there's going to be plenty of action, angst and drama. >:3 
> 
> EDIT: I dumbly forgot to mention, the link below is a link for a poll to vote on the above. ^^
> 
> https://linkto.run/p/PBKLQU62


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re his mother, Katie. The circumstances don’t matter. You’re feeling protective of him, and that’s a good thing. And I’ll tell you something else,” Jacob went on as he tried to reassure his daughter “there’s nothing more terrifying on this Earth than a Mother Bear protecting her cubs. Not even the Batman.” Kate chuckled at her father’s comment, but it uplifted her spirits a little bit.

_ “Jason, you--but how?!” Batwoman asked, completely shocked to see Jason alive! But also, working with Deathstroke?! She was feeling a plethora of conflicting emotions. She was overjoyed he was alive, confused at the fact that he’d just killed these people, overwhelmed because she’d searched for so long and couldn’t find a trace of him, worried because he was working with Deathstroke, and on and on the list went. _

_ “You’re going to try and stop us, aren’t you?” Jason asked, voice sounding small, almost distant. Batwoman recovered most of her composure, noting the conflict in Jason’s tone.  _

_ “Jason...this wasn’t necessary,” Batwoman said softly. She could read his expression, his body language, the way he carried himself and the way he spoke; what ever happened to him, had left lingering scars on him, possibly physical, but most definitely mental. _

_ “You have no idea!” Jason shouted, arm slashing through the air. “These... animals  tortured me, experimented on me for  three months!  They’re evil--beyond evil!” Jason growled, voice wavering slightly. He regained his composure and took a deep breath. _

_ “You...don’t know what they did to me...to...to other people. You can’t  reason  with these people. You can’t just send them to prison, or Arkham. I don’t enjoy taking their lives, I’ve seen what Grave has done to them, but--” Jason paused, looking up at her again “--there is no other way. I’m going to burn it all down. I’m going to tear Grave down, brick, by brick, and burn it all. Please don’t get in my way.” _

_ Without another word, Jason turned to leave with Deathstroke in tow, putting his helmet back on and disguising his voice once more with the voice synthesizer. She wanted to follow him, she did...but she was feeling so much all at once… _

Kate sat at her computer where she had been for the past hour, still processing what had just occurred. After almost a year, Jason had reappeared and had killed those assassins. She knew she had to stop him-- _ to help him _ \--but how? She couldn’t tell Bruce, or any one else for that matter. Not yet. She needed...time. Time to try and help Jason, to...do  _ something .  _ But what that was, she didn’t know. 

The problem was that Grave was still an active threat in Gotham, one that Batman and Robin were still actively fighting. If Jason was here for revenge, and with Deathstroke with him, it was only a matter of time before their paths crossed, and someone got hurt. And they  _ would _ get hurt with Deathstroke involved; that wasn’t even a question. But she worried for Jason. Working with Deathstroke was a huge risk, and she worried that at any moment, he might turn on him and take his life. It was a dilemma and she could see no clear way to handle it without  _ something  _ bad happening. 

But what puzzled her is, why Deathstroke would opt to work with him in the first place. Or anyone for that matter. He wasn’t much of a team player, let alone a teacher. Taking on an apprentice was so wildly out of character for Slade, unless it benefited him somehow. She could think of no benefit to himself to training Jason and making him his partner, which only concerned her more.

“Kaite, sweetheart, I got your message. What’s up?” Jacob asked as he crossed the command center to where his daughter was sitting. Kate’s head perked up as she was plucked out of her thoughts when she heard her father’s voice. She got to her feet and hugged the man.

Almost immediately after she had gotten back to her base, she sent her father a message, asking for his help. Perhaps it was paranoia, but she hadn’t specified with what, just in case the texts were seen by others or intercepted. 

“Jason is alive,” divulged Kate. Jacob stared at his daughter a little wide-eyed and at a loss of words for a few moments. Then, a smile crept up on his face.

“That’s great news! Where is he?” he asked, looking around the room. Kate pulled away from him and sighed, shaking her head. She paced away from him and toward her computer for a moment, before turning back to him.

“It’s...not good. You can’t tell anyone yet, we have to keep this a secret,” she insisted. Jacob flashed a puzzled look, but gave a nod of approval. “Jason is...he’s Red X. He’s working with Deathstroke and they appear to be hunting Grave.” Jacob was silent for a few moments as he processed what Kate had just told him. He then gave a shrug of his shoulders, not terribly perturbed by the news.

“He’s hunting Grave. I fail to see what’s wrong with that,” Jacob replied. Kate sighed in frustration and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Okay, dad, I need you to stop thinking like a soldier for five seconds. Remember that I taught Jason  _ not _ to kill,” Kate replied. Jacob gave a nod in understanding.

“Right, of course. And he just...killed them? Like that?”

“He and Deathstroke. I think Deathstroke has...gotten to him, or something,” Kate answered, turning away from her father and pacing toward her computer.

“Or maybe Grave got to him,” Jacob suggested. Kate slowly turned back to her father and raked both her hands through her hair.

“That thought scares me more than anything. He didn’t say much about his time with Grave, but I could see it in his eyes, his body language, and hear it in his voice,” she began, pacing a little bit more. “Whatever they did to him, it was  _ bad. _ ” 

Jacob moved up behind his daughter and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze to try and soothe her. Kate sighed and turned to her father.

“We can’t tell anyone. Especially not Bruce. Not yet,” she replied.

“Because you’re afraid he’ll put the mission before Jason?” Jacob asked. Kate nodded.

“I’d like to think otherwise, but…”

“You’re his mother, Katie. The circumstances don’t matter. You’re feeling protective of him, and that’s a good thing. And I’ll tell you something else,” Jacob went on as he tried to reassure his daughter “there’s nothing more terrifying on this Earth than a Mother Bear protecting her cubs. Not even the Batman.” Kate chuckled at her father’s comment, but it uplifted her spirits a little bit.

“Well, thanks dad. But we have to get to work. We have to track Jason down and do what we can to help him,” she explained as she moved toward her computer. “The longer he’s out there with Slade, the higher than chances are that someone will get hurt.” Jacob followed her to the computer as she started pulling up files and programs for tracking Grave.

“And you think the best way to track down Jason, is to follow Grave?” he asked. Kate nodded.

“Yes. Will you help me?” she asked.

“Of course, just tell me what you need me to do,” Jacob replied without missing a beat. Kate hesitated for a moment, then flashed a smile.

“Could you change Figaro’s cat litter? I may have forgotten, with everything going on?” Jacob arched an eyebrow at his daughter, and then sighed as he made his way for the exit. “I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you! Love you daddy!” Jacob chuckled and waved back.

“Don’t worry, pumpkin spice, you just focus on bringing your boy home.”

* * *

Jason ducked a punch from Slade and threw one of his own in a counter attack. Slade grabbed his arm and threw the young man across the room. Jason flipped and landed on his feet with ease before launching himself back at the man. 

Slade blocked strike after strike, then Jason took a swipe at his legs. Slade wasn’t falling for it though; he hopped back slightly, landing on one foot with the other elevated, then extended it into a swift kick, nailing Jason in the face and sending him toppling over backwards, crashing against the floor.

“You’re off your game, kid,” Slade patronized, prompting Jason to scoff and wipe the blood from his face. He got to his feet and heaved a sigh, letting his shoulders slump a bit as he relaxed his body.

“I’m fine. There’s nothing off,” he spat back, padding toward the middle of the room again and taking up a fighting stance. But Slade remained motionless, staring at the young man. “Well? What’re you waiting for? Let’s go another round!” Jason demanded. Slade began to remove the hand wraps from his hands as he padded over toward an old bar and reached underneath it, grabbing an old bottle of liquor, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig of it.

They’d made their base of operations in an old, abandoned Speakeasy; the building above it had been renovated on three separate occasions and was currently The East End Free Clinic, run by Leslie Thompkins. Three separate times the building was renovated and still no one had found this room hidden cleverly beneath it.

When you were a kid growing up in Crime Alley, and running from the GCPD, or whichever gang you’d pissed off that week, you didn’t survive long without knowing or learning a few secrets. As for Batman, he knew a lot of the secret places hidden away in Gotham City, but he didn’t know  _all_ of them.

“We’re done for now, kid. You’re distracted,” Slade finally said, after taking another swig of the alcohol. Jason, annoyed, aggressively pulled off his hand wraps and tossed them onto a table nearby.

“Fine,” he snapped back. He stormed across the room and grabbed his shirt. He turned back toward Slade who seemed quite content to sit at that old, shitty bar and just drink. “Is this because of what happened back at China Docks? Because I wouldn’t let you  _kill_ Batwoman?” he asked, lips curving into a snarl. Slade seemed to be ignoring him, the man content to continue drinking from the old liquor bottle. Annoying, Jason stormed toward the man and snatched the bottle from him. Slade turned to him, unperturbed.

“I told you, you needed to be ready to kill--”

“I did,” Jason interrupted. Slade grabbed him by the collar of the shirt and hauled him forward. “You did. But you showed mercy to the rest. What’ve I told you about mercy?” Slade asked, tone still even. Jason snorted and pulled himself free from Slade’s grip.

“Don’t lecture me. I told you, they were just low level thugs. They weren’t a threat. Grave  _ is _ _._ ” Slade grunted in response for which Jason was grateful. A reprieve from the man’s annoying comments would be most welcome. Alas, it didn’t last long.

“So what’s the deal with Batwoman?” he asked. Jason sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told you, you’re distracted, and it’s quite evident that you and Batwoman have some connection,” Slade pointed out, turning in his bar stool to face Jason.

“None of your business,” Jason snapped. Slade chuckled in amusement.

“Let me guess; Kate Kane is your mother,” he filled in, to which Jason slowly turned to him, an expression of both shock and disgust on his face.

“You looked up my file?!” Jason accused. Slade raised his hands defensively, but didn’t deny it. He nodded, instead.

“I did.”

“I hate you,” Jason snapped, taking a swig of alcohol from the bottle he’d snatched from Slade. The older man snatched it back though, and took a sip.

“You even old enough to drink?”

“I’m twenty.”

“That’s not twenty-one.”

“What do you care?”

“I don’t. I just enjoy ruffling your feathers.” Jason shot the man a rather sour look as he stole the bottle back to drink from it. The two men were silent for a time, broken only when Slade got to his feet and moved away from the bar.

“How do you even know Batwoman is Kate?” Jason thought to ask, glancing over his shoulder. Slade snorted in response.

“Are you kidding? I know Bruce Wayne is Batman. I know  _of_ her father, Jacob Kane,” he started, turning toward the young man. “I might be ex-military, but I still hear shit. And to top it all off, her every move and action screams ‘military’. It wasn’t that hard to put together.” Jason simply nodded in response; that all made sense.

“Going to need to be careful with our next move. The Bats know we’re here now, and your mommy knows it’s you,” Slade said then, shooting a teasing jab to Jason at the last bit.

“Fuck you.”

“Told you; you’re not my type.” Jason let out an exasperated sigh and massaged his temples.

“Our next move, what is it?”

“We don’t have one. Not yet. But be patient,” Slade replied and turned back toward Jason. “They’re good at hiding their bullshit, but we’ve gotten good at ruining their day. Between us and the Bats, it’s only a matter of time before they fuck up.”

“And then we nail them to the wall.”

“Precisely.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know. And thank you for...you know...helping me. All things considered.” He heard Barbara chuckle from the other end of the comm.  
> “Of course. This is important to you, and Jason was a friend of mine too.”  
> “But how would he feel to find out we were dating,” Dick answered. Another silence filled the conversation between them, until Barbara sighed.  
> “That’s going to be….tough. It’s not like we planned it, but--”  
> “It still feels like we’re betraying him, doesn’t it?” Dick filled in. The silence spoke for them, and it stretched on for a full minute.

Batwoman was out in the city, now day three with Deathstroke and Red X in town, it was imperative to find them before the others did. Fortunately, she had her father’s help, who was working at her computer in her Command Center. Tracking them down was a difficult task by itself, so tracking them by tracking Grave seemed like the best approach, but tracking Grave was also proving to be difficult. They were less active than normal the last few days, which meant they were up to something. Sure enough…

“Katie, I’ve got something. Reports of a disturbance at Cathedral Square. Could be nothing though,” Jacob said over the comm.

“Or it could be Grave. Either way, I’ll check it out and deal with it. Did you explain the situation to Black Canary?” Batwoman asked. 

“Dinah? Yeah. Do you think--”

“I realize if we’re dealing with Deathstroke, I’ll need help. We can trust her,” she interrupted, revving her motorcycle and then racing off for Cathedral Square. When she arrived, Deathstroke and Red X were fighting off Grims, dozens of them. There were no Reapers in sight, which she found curious, but now wasn’t the time.

“Looks like we’ve got company,” Deathtroke called, pointing out Batwoman. Red X slammed a Grim into the ground and then looked over his shoulder just in time to see her jump off of her bike.

“I can see that,” he replied. He turned his attention back to the Grims, but they suddenly began withdrawing. Batwoman, Deathstroke and Red X looked around curiously as they watched the Grims leave.

“Batwoman,” came a voice from nearby. Batowman turned toward the source to see Black Canary arrive by motorcycle. “I came as fast as I could,” she announced, stopping beside Batwoman. She turned her attention onto Deathstroke and Red X and nodded toward the latter. “So that’s Jason?” she asked.

“Yes,” Batwoman replied.

“Walk away. Both of you. I don’t want to fight you,” Red X declared, arm slashing through the air. “I will, if I must; my mission  _ cannot  _ be stopped. But I would prefer not to. So please--”

“We’re here to help you,” Black Canary cut in, taking a step forward. Batwoman stepped up beside her and took a fighting stance.

“But we will do what we must as well,” Batwoman chimed in. Red X was silent for a time, then glanced over at Deathstroke. He looked back toward Black Canary and Batwoman and bowed his head.

“Very well,” he lamented, taking a fighting stance. “If this is how it has to be, then this is how it has to be.” He and Deathstroke launched at the two women, who awaited their approach. When they drew close, the two of them jumped into combat; Batwoman meeting Deathstroke and Black Canary challenging Red X.

“You know you can’t win. I can beat Batman, which means I can beat you,” taunted Deathstroke, swinging a sword at Batwoman’s head. She blocked the strike on her gauntlet and struck Deathstroke on the chest with a palm strike. He barely looked perturbed. Deathstroke chuckled in amusement, then retaliated by leaping toward her, fists flying, swords sheathed.

Black Canary was holding her own against Red X, fending off his attacks and countering his with some of her own. But she could see he was holding back; if the situation had been different, she would have been insulted. Instead, she opted to use it to her advantage.

“You say you don’t want to hurt us, so why are you fighting us, when all we want to do is help?” she asked him. Red X growled, and ducked back from an attack. He grabbed her arm when her punch missed and threw her over his head. She landed with ease and charged back in at him.

“Grave tormented me for  _ months _ . Murdered, and tortured so many others in the time I was their captive. I watched them discard bodies as if they were little more than garbage,” Red X hissed, deflecting a strike and throwing a punch toward her face. Black Canary ducked back, but Jason was faster than she remembered; she felt the knuckles of his gloves graze her chin, knocking her off balance.

“Enough is enough!” came another voice. The fighting stopped and everyone turned their attention to see Batman and Robin descend from the Batwing above. The two touched down with Batman in front, glaring at the group.

_ No, not now! _ Batwoman cursed mentally, Batman and Robin’s arrival complicating things. She shared a look with Black Canary, a wordless agreement to keep what they knew a secret, and with any luck, Batman would remain ignorant.

* * *

Nightwing swung through the air, over the rooftops of Gotham City, and landed on the roof of an apartment building. Bludhaven would be fine for a night, but for now, he felt like he needed to be here in Gotham. 

His search for Jason, alongside Kate, came to an abrupt end three months ago; he and Kate tracked down every lead, every scrap of evidence they could get their hands on, but it all led to a dead end. Until now; there were a million reasons Deathstroke would be in Gotham City, even while Grave was active. Reason one million and one, however, could be the lead he’d been looking for. It was unlikely, but it was possible. And it was a possibility he was willing to explore.

“You realize this could be another dead end, right?” Oracle asked over the comm. Nightwing made a quick ‘hmm’ sound and stopped at the edge of the roof.

“I know, Orac--”

“The link is secure. We can talk dirty,  _ Dick , _ ” she replied in a playful tone, prompting Dick to chuckle a bit.

“I know Babs. But I’ve got to try. If there’s a  _ chance  _ Jason is still alive, I  _ owe  _ it to him,” he replied. There was a brief silence from Barbara’s end.

“I know. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up,” she said softly. Dick nodded, even knowing she couldn’t see it.

“I know. And thank you for...you know...helping me. All things considered.” He heard Barbara chuckle from the other end of the comm.

“Of course. This is important to you, and Jason was a friend of mine too.”

“But how would he feel to find out we were dating,” Dick answered. Another silence filled the conversation between them, until Barbara sighed.

“That’s going to be….tough. It’s not like we planned it, but--”

“It still feels like we’re betraying him, doesn’t it?” Dick filled in. The silence spoke for them, and it stretched on for a full minute. “Anyway, what can you tell me? Have there been any sightings of Deathstroke and his new apprentice?”

“A few. And apparently, this new ‘apprentice’ is going by Red X. Their last sighting was in The Bowery,” Oracle replied. “But I need to ask, what exactly is it you expect to get from Deathstroke and Red X?”

“Answers. I mean, I’m not going in there expecting they’ll know  _ everything .  _ Or  _ anything _ at all. It’s going to be a fight, I know, but...If they know  _ something ,  _ then it’s worth the risk.” Without another word, Nightwing made his way down toward the Bowery. It was a stretch that he’d find them there now, but it was the best lead they had. It was curious though, how they were able to elude  _ everyone  _ while still somehow remaining in Gotham City. Sneaking past Batman was a feat he didn’t think was possible.

Nightwing arrived in the Bowery, at the last place Deathstroke and Red X had been seen. It was a start, at the very least, but it was going to take a bit of work to track them down. It almost seemed insane to be  _ intentionally  _ looking for Deathstroke. And if he had a partner, this Red X, he had to be pretty dangerous himself.

“Alright, where to begin,” Nightwing muttered to himself. Fortunately, he didn’t have to do too much work. Oracle contacted him again over the comm link.

“Nightwing, I’ve got a sighting at Cathedral Square and--” she paused. 

“And what?” Nightwing asked, typing some commands into his gauntlet. The Wing Glider soared overhead, diving down toward him. He jumped off of the roof and caught it, then took off toward Cathedral Square. 

“Batwoman and Black Canary are there too. They’re fighting with Deathstroke and Red X. Batman and Robin are inbound as well.”

“It’s starting to sound like a costume party. Maybe you should dress up and join us. BYOB,” Nightwing joked, earning a chuckle of amusement from Oracle.

“I think I’ll pass. It sounds like it’s going to be quite the shit show,” she replied. Nightwing grinned as he touched down on top of the roof of the cathedral. That grin quickly faded when he saw what was unfolding on the ground below; Batwoman, Black Canary, Batman and Robin were all engaging in combat with Deathstroke and Red X. Worse still, was it seemed like Deathstroke and Red X were holding the line against all four of them; Deathstroke, he could see holding off three of them, but the fact that Red X was doing so well, too, was concerning.

“I’m going in,” Nightwing said.

“Be careful,” Oracle replied. Nightwing dived down from the roof above and landed on the ground, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Damn Bats. They’re like roaches; crawling out from every crack and crevice,” Deathstroke commented. Red X’s eyes were on Nightwing, but he remained silent.

“It’s over. You’re outnumbered. Surrender and turn yourselves in,” Batman ordered. Batwoman glanced over at him, then at Red X. She couldn’t say anything, lest she draw suspicion, but neither could she let Batman take Jason.

“Over? No,” Red X started, turning his attention back to Batman. “Now it’s fun.” He charged in at Batman and threw a punch, which Batman blocked. Batman attempted to retaliate with a punch of his own, but Red X deflected it, then dropped down to the ground, catching himself on his hands and avoiding an attack from Batman. He glanced over to see Robin incoming, quickly kicking Batman in the gut, and sending him stumbling backward. 

As Robin came at him, he flipped backward and danced around him, grabbing his cape and yanking him backward. He ignored the teen’s protests as he yanked the cape over his head and kicked him away. Black Canary and Batwoman came next, but Deathstroke blocked their path.

“Care to dance, ladies?”

“Not particularly,” Batwoman hissed. Black Canary struck first, flying over Batwoman, who ducked and then watched as she landed a few kicks. Deathstroke blocked them with relative ease, but then Batwoman came at him from his side. She threw several punches, which Deathstroke blocked, but was nailed with a kick from Black Canary. He turned to her, glancing back and forth between the two women.

“Your tandem attacks are pretty impressive. Too bad it won’t be enough,” he taunted. As Black Canary launched into another assault, Deathstroke defended, but kept his eye on Batwoman. The latter lunged in from the side, and as Black Canary attempted a kick, Deathstroke grabbed her leg, and threw her into Batwoman.

Meanwhile, Red X has his hands full with Batman, Nightwing, and Robin; between the three of them, he was barely holding them off.

“Tell me what you know about a man named Jason Todd. He was taken by Grave. You’re hunting them, aren’t you? You’ve got to know something,” Nightwing demanded, pointing his escrima stick at Red X. He’d convinced Batman and Robin to hold off for the time being while he tried to find  _ something  _ out.

“Jason Todd? I’ve heard the name. Not that I’ll tell you  _ damn  _ thing,” Red X snarled. So perhaps seeing Dick and Barbara together had stung a bit more than he’d let on, but regardless, he couldn’t let Dick know the truth. Not yet. Not until Grave was dealt with. Then he’d deal with Dick.

“Then I’ll make you talk!”

“I’d like to see you try.” Red X gestured for him to come at him, and Nightwing obliged. Though he was conflicted about fighting him, he had to keep up appearances. He’d pull his punches and be careful not to hurt him too much. At least, no more than Dick had hurt  _ him  _ at any rate. A spot of pettiness in himself, perhaps?

But before they could engage in combat, a dagger landed in between then, sticking into the ground. Everyone turned to look at the source, and atop the Cathedral, stood  _ three  _ Reapers; two women and a man, glaring down at them. The man, in the middle, started clapping.

“Congratulations! You’ve fallen into our little trap!” he declared. The woman to his left picked up where he left off.

“It was so nice of you to come together and make our job easier.” The woman opposite her spoke next.

“Killing all of you in one fell swoop.” The three of them snapped their fingers, and Grims flooded the square, forcing the entire group, allies and enemies alike, on the backfoot.

“Well, looks like we stepped in it this time,” Deathstroke observed. Red X snorted.

“You think so?”

“Enough squabbling. We can fight each other later. For now, let’s focus on the enemy in front of us!” Batwoman called out.

“Agreed. And no killing,” Batman added.

“Just try and stop me,” Deathstroke snapped back. The Grims attacked and left them no more time for bickering. The seven of them joined together for the time being to fend off the assault. Grims came at them from almost every angle. Even Batman was too focused to stop Deathstroke and Red X from executing the Grims.

“Jason, you need to stop. Come home, we can help,” Batwoman urged, quietly, when she found herself back-to-back with Red X.

“I told you, Grave is going to  _ burn . _ ” Red X charged at the pair of Grims coming his way, but they dodged to the side as a Reaper charged in instead. Red X quickly drew a couple of daggers, deflecting a sword strike, and slashing at her ribs. The Reaper ducked back and threw a throwing knife, which Red X blocked; the knife skirled off of the metal gauntlet harmlessly.

Batman and Robin were also having a tussle with a Reaper, and Deathstroke’s own fight was slanted in his favor, though his Reaper seemed to fight more aggressively than the others.

“Cover your ears!” They heard Black Canary shout. Without any more prompting, they all covered their ears, save for Deathstroke and Red X who didn’t need to. The loud screech of Black Canary’s Canary Cry sounded, sending Grims scattering, many of them hitting benches, signs or bushes. The Reapers fared better, though one of them attempted to strike at her throat. Batwoman had her back, however, and kicked the Reaper away from her.

Red X feinted to the right, avoiding his Reaper’s attack, then landed a fierce blow to the back of her head, knocking her out cold. He looked up and toward Nightwing. He gasped when he saw a Reaper stabbed Nightwing through the shoulder, then attempted to run him through with a sword.

“No!” Red X shouted, rushing to Nightwing’s defense. Nightwing clutched his shoulder, falling to one knee as the Reaper raised his sword to strike. Red X jumped in the way and when Nightwing looked up, he gasped. Red X had been stabbed through his side with a sword.

“H-hey!” Nightwing called out, pushing himself to his feet. Red X simply started to chuckle in amusement, when then turned into a laugh.

“Well, this is a problem, ain't it? Or it would be, if not for the  _ abilities  _ you stupid fuckers gave me with your little experiments,” Red X taunted, tone full of malice. He brought a fist down on the Reaper’s sword and shattered it. The Reaper, seemingly unperturbed, quickly drew a dagger and slashed at Red X’s face. The man growled slightly, ducking back, but he had been taken by surprise. 

The dagger, Apokalyptian in make, tore a gouge through the front of his helmet, pieces of material flying in different directions. But the dagger missed his face, and he was pissed.

“You’re going to pay for that,” Red X snarled, head butting the Reaper. He drew his sword and stabbed the Reaper through the stomach, killing her. With his mask destroyed, it no longer served any purpose. Red X pulled it off and discarded what remained of it, pulling a gasp from all those around, even as the remaining Reapers and Grims retreated.

He turned to face Dick, who stared at him wide-eyed in shock.

“Jason?!” 

“Yes. Surprised to see me, Dickie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm. Not the most inspired ending, but it seemed like a good place to stop at the very least. ^^


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jason is our family. We’ll do what we have to, to help him, and protect him. From anyone. Including you,” Kate threatened, moving toward Bruce in a slow, deliberate manner. “I’d suggest you pick your battles wisely, _Batman_. I can be an ally, or an enemy, and you don’t want me as your enemy."

_“Jason...you’re alive?” Dick asked, awestruck as he slowly approached Jason and reached out his hand. Jason’s lip curled into a snarl as he slapped Dick’s hand away and delivered a palm strike to his chest, pulling back so as not to hurt him. But Batman did not seem to approve. He dove in at him and threw a series of punches._

_Caught off guard, Jason was put on the back foot as he deflected blow after blow, but losing ground quickly. Everyone else was too stunned to react. Save for Batwoman. She dived into the fray and shoved Batman away from Jason._

_“Back off!” Batwoman hissed. Taking advantage of the chaos, Deathstroke grabbed Jason by the shoulder and tugged him along. The two of them left, and Batwoman was left fighting Batman, with everyone watching in shock._

“You _knew_ Jason was Red X, and you kept this information from us?!” Bruce growled at Kate. They stood in the middle of the Batcave at present because they _needed to talk ._ Dinah sat off to the side watching, ready to intervene if it was necessary. Dick sat on a bench nearby, a bit stunned into silence by what had happened, and even Tim seemed to be keeping his own counsel.

“I did. You didn’t need to know--” Kate tried to counter, but Bruce’s hands slammed down on the table in front of him, glaring at Kate.

“I _did_ need to know! That was vital information! You--” Kate interrupted this time, slamming her own hands on the table.

“Don’t give me that look, or that damn tone! Your little Bat glare might work on everyone else, but as you can see, I’m not cowed by it!” Kate roared back, removing her cowl and tossing it onto the table so she could look at him with her own eyes. “I kept it a secret because I _don’t trust you ._ ” Bruce’s expression of anger faded quickly and he almost seemed...hurt by that.

“ _You_ don’t trust _me_?” he asked, recovering quickly.

“I knew that if you knew Jason was Red X, you’d put the mission before Jason. I want to help him, and you just want to throw him in Arkham or Blackgate!” Kate snapped back. Bruce heaved an exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You _don’t_ know that--”

“I do. You demonstrated that perfectly back at Cathedral Square when you attacked him the same as if he were any other Gotham villain,” Kate argured, pointing at him accusingly from across the table.

“Kate, he’s killing people,” Bruce pointed out in a more calm tone.

“Do you even stop to think for _five minutes_ what Jason has been through?”

“I’m interested to find out myself,” came Barbara’s voice. Everyone looked up to see her and Jacob moving across the cave and toward Batman and Batwoman. “But first,” she started looking over at Kate “you should have told us. Me, and Dick. Or at least Dick. He’s been searching for Jason, just like you have Kate. He was Jason’s _boyfriend_. How could you just cut him out?” Barbara lectured, but kept her tone calm and even.

“Because I didn’t trust you either.”

“You didn’t trust me? Or Babs?” Dick asked, feeling a bit confused. “Jason meant-- _means_ \--the world to me. You think--”

“I was afraid you’d tell Bruce. And that you would tell your father,” she said, each to Dick, and then to Barbara. She shot a look over at the two of them added “besides, you two seemed quite content with each other, so--”

“It wasn’t like I planned it! Kate, after the last lead went dead, I was depressed! Barbara helped me pick up the pieces! She was _there_ for me! We didn’t….it just.... _happened_ _._ I didn’t want to hurt Jason, I--”

“The point is, Kate, we deserved to know. We get it, you’re his mother. Sure, he’s adopted, but you really stepped up. We may not have been as close to Jason as you, but--”

“None of this matters right now. What matters is that we help Jason,” Dinah cut in, moving toward the table. 

“And what about Gotham City?” Bruce asked, eyes narrowing. “While he and Deathstroke wage their war against Grave, innocent people will inevitably get caught in the middle.”

“Keep your mouth shut, Bruce. That’s my grandson you’re talking about,” Jacob snarled.

“This doesn’t concern you, Kane,” Bruce snapped back.

“I say it does,” Kate growled at him. “Jason is our family. We’ll do what we have to, to help him, and protect him. From anyone. Including you,” Kate threatened, moving toward Bruce in a slow, deliberate manner. “I’d suggest you pick your battles wisely, _Batman._ I can be an ally, or an enemy, and you _don’t_ want me as your enemy. I’m going to help Jason, and if you get in my way--”

“What?” Bruce asked, eyes narrowed. Dinah stepped in between them and pushed them apart.

“Enough! Both of you!” Dinah shouted. She turned first to Bruce and glared at the man.

“Kate is right; Jason was in Grave’s custody for lord only knows how long. Weeks, months. We don’t know what he went through, what they put him through. And now, whatever line of crap Deathstroke has fed him.” Bruce looked unconvinced, and Dinah, unperturbed.

“He needs help. Not a cell in Arkham or Blackgate,” Jacob added in.

“I agree,” Barbara added, moving toward Jacob and Kate. Bruce looked over at Dick who flashed a brief apologetic look, and then joined the others.

“We have to try and reach him, Bruce. Jason was one of us. He still is. I have to believe that,” Dick told him. Tim too, made his way over to the group and took their side over Bruce’s.

“Bruce, we do this to help the people of Gotham. Jason is a victim too. Don’t we owe it to him to try and help him?” Tim asked. Bruce’s eyes fell to the table before him. He heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll give you some time,” Bruce finally relented, spinning on his heel and storming across the cave. Kate turned and left without another word, Jacob, Barbara, Dinah, and Dick hot on her heels.

“What do we do now?” Dick asked. Kate glanced over her shoulder at him.

“I have an idea that might work.”

* * *

“Well the cat’s out of the bag now,” Slade commented, walking past Jason who was currently sprawled out on the couch, reading a book. They had retired to Slade’s house in Avalon Hill, a good ten minutes outside of either Gotham City or Bludhaven. With the Bats now aware that Red X was Jason, they’d be searching twice as hard as before. Staying in Gotham was too risky now.

“That’s well deduced, Captain Obvious,” Jason replied without looking up from his book. Slade glanced over his shoulder at Jason as he padded into the kitchen and dug through the fridge for a bottle of whisky.

“You’re not concerned they’ll try to “stop you?” he asked, pouring himself a glass. He set the bottle back in the fridge, then padded back to the living room with the glass in hand. “Or I should be asking if your resolve has wavered. You looked pretty weak back there.”

“Excuse me?” Jason asked, an annoyed edge in his tone as he bookmarked his page and closed the book. Slade leaned against the door frame and shrugged his shoulders.

“Just saying. You pulled your punches. And you hesitated,” Slade pointed out. Jason scoffed at him, waving his hand dismissively as he sat up right and swung his legs over the edge of the couch until his feet hit the floor.

“Because those are people I _care about_! I’m not going to kill them!” he snapped at Slade, shooting a glare at the man.

“Or maybe you _want_ to go with them. To _let them_ save you,” Slade egged on further, ignoring the young man’s scowl. Jason got to his feet and slashed an arm through the air.

“I’ve told you; I’m in this until Grave is a smoking pile of ash. I’m going to hunt them down like the animals they are,” Jason snarled. Slade chuckled in amusement.

“Just checking. But be careful not to let revenge consume you, ‘eh?” Slade suggested, padding toward the young man. Jason snorted and arched an eyebrow.

“That’s awfully rich, coming from you. Mister “Petty Vengeance is my vice,”,” Jason answered, placing his hands on his hips. Slade chuckled again and ruffled Jason’s hair. Jason was not amused and shoved the old man away from him. “God damn, are you drunk?”

“Not yet. I just like pissing you off. Petty vengeance, remember? For all those times you got under my skin. You little punk,” Slade responded, moving past Jason and toward the bathroom.

“Difference between me and you kid? I get my vengeance and move on. You? You’re letting it eat you alive. Keep at it, and there won’t be anything left after this is over.” Without another word, Slade disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Jason standing in the middle of the living room alone. He was left to his thoughts, and in an odd twist, he found himself ruminating once more on a nugget of wisdom granted to him by Slade. Slade of all people! The man seemed wiser than he let on. Wiser than Jason had himself expected.

He didn’t have too long to think about it though, because his phone started to ring from the end table where he’d left it. Curious, he moved toward the end table and picked it up to see Kate’s phone number on the screen. He frowned at it and briefly wondered how she got his new number. But only briefly because he reminded himself that she was a Bat. Regardless, he opened his phone and found a text message inside, asking him to come meet with her, along with a listed destination.

He heard the shower start and thought about it to himself for a moment. This could be a trap, he knew that. But this was Kate, the woman he’d come to think of as a mother. Maybe it wasn’t... 

Jason made his way down to the basement where they kept the gear and donned his Red X outfit, then left the house without a word to Slade.

* * *

Kate, Dinah, Dick, and Barbara gathered at Grant Park late in the night as they waited for Jason. This was where she had asked Jason to meet her and at night so they could do this without interruption. They were only waiting for Roy, now.

“Are you sure this will work?” Dick asked, peeling off his domino mask. Barbara stepped up beside him with a hand on her hip and gave a wave of her hand.

“I think he means, are you sure Dick and I should be here,” Barbara added, both of them sharing a look of guilt. Kate sighed and shook her head. 

“I think, deep down, he knows you still care about him. We all do. I’m not saying this is a guarantee, but it’s a chance to get through to him.”

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” came Roy’s voice. The group turned toward him and saw the Red Head, in full Arsenal gear, approaching them. “I dropped everything to come here. Oliver can handle Star City on his own. I figure Jason needs me more.” Roy beamed at them as he came to a stop just a short distance away from them, shooting a glance over at Barbara and Dick.

“Roy, it’s good to--” Dick started, but Roy held up his hand. Dick flashed a look of confusion. “Roy, what’s wrong?”

“I think you know, Dick. You dating Barbara, while your _boyfriend_ was missing was kind of a _Dick_ move. Pun intended,” Roy snapped at him.

“We didn’t--”

“Plan it, yeah yeah. Tell that to Jason. Maybe he’ll forgive you, if his heart ain’t broken,” Roy snapped again, interrupted Dick.

“Now isn’t the time to argue. We need to come together for Jason,” Dinah cut in.

“Yes, well, Jason is here,” Jason said, drawing everyone’s attention. He was wearing his Red X gear, sans the helmet which he had underneath his arm and wearing a black domino instead. “What do you want?” he asked. Before anyone could say anything, Roy hugged him.

“Jaybird! It’s so good to see you! I dropped everything in Star and came by Zeta Tube when they told me! I’m so glad you’re alive, buddy!” Roy beamed. Jason was stunned for a moment, to have someone _actually_ hug him. But for Roy to, and to hear his voice again, to see him again...Jason smiled a genuine smile and hugged him back after a moment’s pause.

“We want to help you, Jason,” Dinah offered.

“I know we can’t _begin_ to imagine what you’ve gone through, but we all still love you. We just want to help you. Please, come home,” Kate added in. Jason turned his attention toward the two women and breathed out a sigh.

“I can’t,” he muttered, staring at the ground, his hands clenched into fists. He looked up at them again and shook his head. “You _don’t_ know what these... _animals_ are capable of.”

“Jason, please. This isn’t you; you don’t kill people. You’re letting Deathstroke--” Dick started softly, but Jason backed away from him.

“This has nothing to do with Deathstroke! I _asked_ him to train me! You didn’t see what Grave does to people! I watched innocent men, women and _children_ get _experimented_ on! I watched their corpses get discarded like they meant nothing! Like they were worth nothing! I suffered through three months of hell in which they tried to _break_ me, with torture and experimentation! The pumped me full of chemicals, subjected me to _so much pain ,_ ” Jason lashed out, feeling the tears filling the corners of his eyes. “It got so bad, sometimes I sat in my cell and I...I'd wish I was dead. That they would just kill me. But I endured. I didn’t break. And then, I escaped, with Slade’s help.”

They all watched and listened, mouths agape in horror at what Jason revealed to them. And Kate watched, like a mother helpless to help her child as Jason’s shoulders started to shake. He pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbed his eyes with his fingers, anything to stop the tears he could feel beginning to for there. When that failed Jason covered his face with his hand as the tears spilled over his cheeks, trying to hide it from the others. Recalling all the horrors he witnessed in that lab, having everyone here still trying to help him...it was too much...

“Jaybird...I’m _so_ sorry. I...I feel like...I should have _been_ there! I should have had your back!” Roy said to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It was the night that I left, wasn’t it? When they….took you?”

Jason shrugged Roy’s arm off and dried his eyes. He backed away from them and hardened his expression.

“Grave it _evil ._ I care about all of you, I do. Which is why I _refuse_ to rest, until everything they’ve built has been _razed_ to the ground. Grave is going to _burn_ for what they’ve done. And not just to me personally!” Jason raged, arm slashing through the air. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, his eyes were calmer. 

“It was...good to see you all again. But I’ve got work to do.” As Jason turned to leave, Dick stepped toward him.

“Jason, wait--”

“Goodbye Dick. I’m happy for you and Barbara,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “She obviously makes you happier than I ever did.” 

“That’s not true!” Dick blurted out, moving after him, but Jason flinched away from him, shooting him a glare. He pulled out a gun and pointed it at him.

“Don’t touch me. I’m leaving, and you’re going to let me,” Jason snapped. “All of you are.”

“We can’t let you leave, Jason,” Dinah asserted. She stepped toward Jason but Kate held out her arm in front of her to stop her.

“No. We have to let him go,” Kate said in an even tone. “We can’t make him stay. We can’t make him listen.” Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. Silence fell over the group. Then without another word, Jason turned and left, donning his Red X helmet. Once he was out of sight, the silence persisted for a few moments.

“Was that the right call?” Roy asked, rubbing the back of his neck. “I feel like...we could have done more.”

“Attacking him would have made it worse. Jason’s mental state is...precarious,” Kate commented, turning to face them all. “I could see it in his body language, in his voice, in his...eyes,” she trailed off near the end, eyes slowly diverting to the ground. She took a deep breath and looked back at all of them. “But this was progress. We’ve opened the door for him. All we can do is encourage him to walk through it.”

“But what about in the meantime? He’s killing people,” Dick started, his voice filled with uncertainty.

“He’s killing Grave, but...yes, I know. We got him away from Slade and his influence at least for a little while. It’s a start,” Kate answered.

“Bruce isn’t going to hold off for long, though. He--” Barbara started, but Kate interrupted.

“One problem at a time. My main concern is Jason. I’ll deal with Bruce.” Everyone shared a look, then looked back to Kate.

“What does that mean?” Dinah asked carefully. Kate’s expression hardened a bit as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“It means that I’ll do what I have to do. If that means taking on the Batman, then so be it.”

* * *

Kate heaved a weary sigh as she returned to her Command Center feeling exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Her father was still sitting at the computer, seemingly staring at the screen.

"I couldn't convince him to come home," she lamented as she padded toward him. "I thought this could work. I thought--"

"Katie. Pumpkin spice. You got through to him," Jacob replied, turning in the chair. Kate looked up at him, slightly bewildered. She noticed the book in his lap and gasped slightly, having recognized that book.

"Is that--"

"A crime bible? Yeah. And you'll be quite pleased to hear where I got it," Jacob answered, grinning from ear to ear as he rose to his feet. He padded toward his daughter who was waiting for his answer. He handed the book to her and said "Jason was here, and he asked me to give this to you. He got it from Grave and he asked me to tell you--" he paused for a moment "--that he's sorry. He misses you, but he can't come home. Not until the mission is done." Kate nodded in reply, lips canting into a smile. "But Katie, you did it; he _wants to come home."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was a bit fluffier than I originally intended. ^^ Also the poll is over and the results are in. There are no results! It's 50/50 for JayDick and JayRoy. So, like...idk what to do with that. xD


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I told you, I wasn’t going to stop this until Grave was gone! Do not get in my way. Please. I won’t ask you again,” Red X pleaded, but there was something else there that the three vigilantes recognized; though he didn’t outright say it, he had implied he was willing to fight them to continue down this path. And so Batwoman straightened up and took a deep breath.
> 
> “If that’s the way things have to be--” she started, taking a fighting stance. “Then so be it.”
> 
> “Don’t do this,” Red X pleaded again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. This was the longest chapter yet! And it was hella fun to write. Please do try and enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. >:3

Deathstroke and Red X were perched atop Von Gruenwald tower. They had been off the radar and out of Gotham City for the better part of a week. They’d been waiting and watching from a distance as Batwoman, Batman, Robin, and Nightwing took on Grave, as the “war” went into overdrive. 

For some reason, Grave  _ really  _ wanted Gotham City. Jason suspected it had a lot to do with Gotham’s Underworld and Black Market, both which were quite extensive. Gotham was quite a corrupt city, where one with the power, influence, and connections could get away with  _ a lot .  _ When you thought about it that way, it made a lot more sense.

“So, are you ready?” Deathstroke asked without so much as a glance at Red X. Red X was silent for a time, staring out over the city below them. They hadn’t spent this last week just watching and waiting; they’d been researching. They had been carefully plotting Grave’s movements, tracking sightings of them, and putting together a map of Gotham City, with Grave as their focus. They weren’t quite sure they had pinned down a main base of operations just yet, but they were close. Jason could feel it. They just needed to kick the hornet’s nest a little more.

“I’m ready. Tonight, we hit GothCorp and kick that hornet’s nest so hard, it bursts open,” Red X replied, looking over at Deathstroke. “We don’t have any solid evidence that GothCorp is working with them, or even aware of it, but considering they fucked up shit they’ve gotten up to and their  _ alleged  _ Black Market dealings, I’d say it’s a safe bet they’re working with Grave, even if they’re unaware of it.”

“You sound more sure of yourself than you have in a while,” Deathstroke commented. Red X snorted in response. Of course he was; they were so close to victory, he could  _ taste it. _ While tearing Gotham out of Grave’s hand wouldn’t be the ultimate end of them, it would certainly  _ cripple  _ them in this region. Jason had taken Slade’s words to heart and even though he was so filled with  _ hate  _ for everything that Grave  _ was _ _,_ he wasn’t blinded by it. At least not yet. He’d done some introspection and could see where his anger and rage were leading; this vengeance, it was eating at him, and it would consume him if he let it. But he wouldn’t. No, he didn’t want to become that which Kate trained him to fight against. 

“I am. Removing Grave from Gotham, cutting them out like a cancer, is enough for me. What about you, though?” Red X asked, glancing over at the man. Deathstroke chuckled in amusement.

“I’m of a similar mind. They won’t think to fuck with me again if we can pull this off and force them out of Gotham. But for now, let’s focus on the mission. Give me a run down; I want to make sure you remember  _ exactly  _ what the mission is.” Red X gave a nod in reply; a reasonable request.

“The mission is simple. We’ve planted listening devices in various offices across the main GothCorp building,” Red X replied, pointing to the skyscraper with the words “GothCop” lit up across it, just a few blocks away. “The CEO of GothCorp, Ferris Boyle, is having a “personal meeting” with a representative from a “secret organization” tonight. An off the record meeting. Meaning a Black Market deal, most likely.”

“And I think we know what “organization” this representative represents,” Deathstroke cut in. Red X ignored the comment and continued with his summary of the mission.

“We get in there and cut this “representative” down, and give a little warning to Boyle; stop dealing with these people, or you’ll deal with us.” Deathstroke gave a nod of approval, then grunted a bit at the last part.

“It’d be easier to kill the corrupt weasel,” Deathstroke replied. Red X gave a nod in agreement.

“Agreed. But we’re not after Boyle. Batman and Batwoman can deal with him. We’re after Grave and no one else,” Red X answered. Deathstroke rose to his full height, as did Red X.

“Well then, everything’s in place. Shall we begin?” he asked.

“I thought you’d never ask.” With that, the two of them dived off of the top of the tower and made their way toward GothCorp.

* * *

“So we are agreed. You will sell this new technology to my...organization as a much higher price than you would get otherwise. And in return, we can arrange for a hacker to “break into GothCorp”, and “steal” all information relating to the program, leaving nothing to tie your company to any sort of illicit deal,” said a man to Ferris Boyle. The man in question was garbed in a black business suit with a tie and glasses. He stood in front of the desk of GothCorp CEO Ferris Boyle, an aged man with short grey hair, and wearing a grey business suit and tie. The CEO rose from his chair and rounded his desk, flashing a grin to the other man as he held his hand out.

“You have a deal” he replied, and then the two men shook hands. Suddenly, the window shattered as Red X and Deathstroke crashed through it, onto Boyle’s top floor office.

“Hate to break it to you, but the deal is off,” Red X declared, unsheathing a sword from his back, with Deathstroke mirroring the move.

“Besides, you don’t want to be making deals with an organization like Grave. You should see what they do to their enemies. You’d hate to be their allies,” Deathstroke added in. The man in the black suit gasped, and attempted to flee, but Deathstroke quickly grabbed a gun and shot him in both ankles. The man let out a yelp and fell to the ground. Boyle attempted to flee as well, but Red X held him at the point of his sword.

“Don’t move. You’re a disgusting, corrupt piece of shit, Boyle, but we’re not after you. You just stand there and keep your mouth shut, and you’ll survive the night. You have my word,” Red X ordered. Boyle just gave a slight nod of his head, hand searching for a button underneath his desk. Red X’s sword against his throat made him stop, however. “Don’t push that button.” Boyle raised his hands defensively.

“Well, well, well. So even Grave has slugs in suits to do business for them?” Deathstroke commented, resting his sword over his shoulder as he approached the man from behind. He pointed another sword at him as he rolled over onto his back. The man in the suit started to laugh.

“Science. Military. Business. Politics. Grave has it all. Crime is key; we’ll rule the world and nobody will know it,” the man said with a laugh. Deathstroke laughed along too, then stabbed the man through the leg with his sword, pulling a pained groan out of him. Red X sat by and watched passively.

“So, Grave adheres to the Religion of Crime then? Explains the Crime Bible. Thanks for the info, and for confirming what we have suspected for a while. You--” Red X started, but was interrupted by a shout. Deathstroke kept his eyes trained on the man while Red X looked toward the new arrival. Or rather, arrivals, plural.

“Stop!” Batwoman called out, accompanied by Black Canary, and Arsenal. “Don’t do this, Red X. You don’t have to take anyone’s life. Let Boyle go, spare the slug in the suit--”

“See? I called it,” Deathstroke chimed in, glancing over at Batwoman, briefly.

“And let’s just... _ talk _ _,_ ” Batwoman said softly, raising her hands defensively and then slowly lowering them, indicating that they weren’t here to fight. Red X growled and glanced over at Boyle. He gestured toward the door and Boyle fled.

“Coward,” Deathstroke muttered. Red X turned his attention to Batwoman, Black Canary, and Arsenal.

“How did you--you know what, never mind,” Red X started, easily concluding how they knew he’d be here. Of course they’d be keeping tabs on GothCorp. Who wouldn’t? “Kill him,” Red X said to Deathstroke without turning.

“Gladly,” Deathstroke replied, raising his sword to strike.

“No!” Batwoman shouted out, and attempted to lunge in at Deathstroke to stop him, But Red X stood in her way and shoved her back as Deathstroke plunged his sword into the man’s heart. 

“I  _ told  _ you, I wasn’t going to stop this until Grave was gone! Do  _ not  _ get in my way.  _ Please .  _ I won’t ask you again,” Red X pleaded, but there was something else there that the three vigilantes recognized; though he didn’t outright say it, he had implied he was willing to fight them to continue down this path. And so Batwoman straightened up and took a deep breath.

“If that’s the way things have to be--” she started, taking a fighting stance. “Then so be it.”

“Don’t do this,” Red X pleaded again.

“C’mon, Kate, you can’t be serious,” Dinah put in.

“Jaybird, please, don’t force us to fight you,” Roy begged softly, reaching for his bow. Red X’s eyes narrowed beneath his helmet as he drew his swords.

“I’m not forcing you to do  _ anything .  _ But you’re forcing my hand here. I don’t have a choice.”

“You do. You’re just making the wrong one,” Kate responded. 

“Deathstroke. Go. I can handle this,” Red X said to the assassin, his tone deadly calm and his eyes locked onto Batwoman. Deathstroke chuckled in amusement and patted Red X’s shoulder.

“For once, I actually believe you. Just don’t kill ‘em. You can’t live with that,” he said, and passed by the others, unperturbed and dived out the window. Silence filled the room as not a soul moved a muscle or made a peep; it was like an old, Wild West stand off. It was as if they were waiting to see who would blink first, so to speak.

Red X charged in first and swung a fist at Batwoman. Batwoman deflected the blow and shoved his arm aside, turning his momentum against him. She attempted a palm strike at his chest, but he swatted the attack aside, and headbutted her. Batwoman grunted and stumbled backward. The others attempted to join in, but she held up a hand and stayed them off without a word.

She retaliated with a fierce combination of punches and kicks meant to throw Red X off his game, but he seemed unfazed. In fact, he was better than she remembered. Red X countered with a combination of his own, pushing Batwoman back and putting her on the back foot. She was holding back, he could tell. But so was he, and he suspected she knew that as well as he did.

Black Canary and Arsenal stood back passively and watched them fight, despite their every instinct telling them to jump in and help. But Batwoman seemed to be holding her own quite comfortably. To look at them, you would have thought they were training and not fighting. There didn’t seem to be any urgency behind their strikes. They almost seemed to... _ enjoy it . _

As Red X charged, Batwoman held her position. At the right moment, she ducked over backward in a move she had once taught him, and kicked upward, sending him flying over his head. Black Canary and Arsenal ducked out of the way as Red X skidded to a stop, right at the edge of the window.

“Jason,” Batwoman murmured, slowly making an approach. “I’ve won. It’s over. You have no more ground.”

“That’s where you're wrong,” he replied. He let himself fall back, out of the shattered window. Batwoman, Arsenal, and Black Canary rushed to the edge as Red X fell. He spun through the air and reached for a grappling gun, then fired a line to a building across the way. Batwoman wasted not a moment more to do the same and follow him. Black Canary and Arsenal did likewise, just as GCPD officers stormed the office.

The three of them touched down on the same building Red X had landed on and pursued him as he jumped across the street to another rooftop. They followed suit, but instead of continuing to run, Red X turned and confronted Batwoman, who charged at him.

“You’re physically stronger than me and not just because you’re male, am I wrong?” Batowman asked, fending off her attacks.

“No, you’re not. Grave’s experiments gave me abilities similar to Deathstroke’s. I also know what you’re thinking,” Red X replied, dodging a punch from Batwoman.

“Do you?”

“I do. And I agree; the strongest one isn’t the one who always wins,” he replied, ducking back like Batwoman had before, but instead kicking her in the chin. “It’s the smartest. The Fastest. You’re trying to out maneuver me, trying to read my fighting style. You think I haven’t changed that much since I was Lark. But you’re reading the situation wrong.”

Red X landed a punch, followed by a couple more and a kick, sending Batwoman flying backward. She skidded to a stop on the roof, landing on her feet and wiping the blood away from the corner of her mouth with her thumb.

“I didn’t even see those attacks coming,” she stated. Red X stood to his full height and took up a fighting stance again.

“Of course not. Deathstroke also gave me a crash course in Jeet Kune Do. What that means is, I mastered the ability to fight without telegraphing my moves. I know you and Batman like to look for the body language, the slight tension of muscle before an opponent launches an attack. I wonder, how will you fight me, if you can’t read me?”

Batwoman flashed a grin as a feeling of pride welled up inside her. She was impressed, and if the circumstances had been different…

“You’ll just have to see for yourself.” Batwoman made another charge, but Red X seemed to have the upper hand, landing blow after blow. Batwoman landed a few of her own, but she was losing ground.

“I don’t get it! Why won’t she let us help? She’s getting pummeled out there!” Arsenal cursed, gesturing toward the fight in front of them. Black Canary held up her hand to silence him.

“Batwoman is about to turn this around. Watch. She’s not just getting pummeled, as you so eloquently put it. She’s learning. Even if she can’t read his moves, she can read his style.”

As Red X landed another punch, Batwoman skidded across the roof again, breathing heavily. He lowered his stance and removed his helmet, wearing a black domino underneath.

“Please. Stop this. I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” Jason begged her again. Batwoman huffed and got to her feet.

“I can’t. And besides, I’m just getting started,” she replied. Jason bowed his head and charged again, careful not to telegraph his moves as he swung a fist at her. Batwoman ducked out of the way and landed a palm strike on Jason’s chest. Jason gasped as the wind was driven out of his lungs, then she launched into a furious assault, pushing him back. He regained his footing shortly after, and once again, the playing field seemed to be leveled once more.

“So...you’ve learned my style.”

“It’s harder to go against your instincts than you think.” Red X and Batwoman stared each other down, then Batwoman lowered her arms.

“Stop this. I don’t want to fight you, and you don’t want to fight me,” she said to him. Jason sighed and dropped his own stance.

“Can’t you see? I’m doing this  _for_ us. Grave won’t ever stop. And neither can I,” Jason replied. He could hear Deathstroke’s voice over his comm inside his helmet and put it back on. “I’ve got to go now; we’ve got a new Grave target to hit,” Jason said then and turned to escape.

“Wait!” Batwoman called after him. Red X jumped off the edge of the roof and vanished. They could hear the sound of a motorcycle engine, and the three of the looked to see him take off down the streets of Gotham on a motorcycle.

“What do we do now?” Arsenal asked.

“We follow him,” Dinah replied. Batwoman nodded in agreement.

* * *

Red X arrived down in The Bowery and began making his way toward where Deathstroke had indicated he’d be. He spotted the assassin crouched down a couple rooves ahead and approached him, but before he arrived, an entire warehouse exploded. Shock and taken aback, Red X shielded himself. He rushed to the scene, stopping beside Deathstroke.

“What the hell was that?!” he asked, glaring. Deathstroke looked over at him and shrugged.

“It  _ was  _ crawling with Grave operatives. But it’s not anymore,” Deathstroke replied. Red X growled and shook his head, removing his helmet. He pinched the bridge of his nose and gestured toward the burning wreckage.

“There could have been innocent people in there!”

“There weren’t, trust me. I scouted it out first because I knew you’d get your panties in a twist.”

“But blowing up the whole building?!”

“Better than killing them one by one and giving some of them a chance to escape.”

“God dammit, you’re unbelievable.” Jason pulled his Red X helmet back on and made his way down.

“Where are you going?” Deathstroke asked.

“To check for survivors.”

“You do that. I’m heading back. No use sticking around here,” Deathstroke replied and turned to leave. As Red X surveyed the damage, he looked to see if there were indeed any survivors.

_If it was a Grave compound, then so be it. At least now they’ll_ literally  _ burn. Maybe they’ll burn some more in hell, too. _

“Ah dammit. What a pain in the ass,” Red X muttered, turning to leave. But he heard the familiar flapping of a cape and when he turned, it was Batman.

“It’s over, Jason. Enough is enough. This ends now. All of it,” Batman ground out, tone menacing. Red X glared back at the man and snorted.

“Take your sanctimonious bullshit to someone else. This was justice. Grave and everyone who works for them, deserves to burn.”

“Not in my city. I’ve given you a chance, given Kate a chance. But you’ve crossed the line. You’re going to Arkham.”

“You’re welcome to try and take me.” Batman lunged at him without another word and threw a series of punches which Red X easily blocked. He retaliated with some attacks of his own, but Batman was able to keep pace with him. While Red X was stronger, physically, Batman had far more experience than him, which he was learning now. 

As he threw a punch, Batman deflected it, and threw a punch to his gut. Red X gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. Batman then kneed him in the face, grabbed him by the back of his armor and threw him into a car nearby. Red X grunted in pain as he rolled off of the car and got back to his feet. He knew he had to adjust his style; where Batwoman was more finesse, Batman was more of a straight up brawler.

Batman threw a punch which Red X deflected, then threw a punch of his own to Batman’s gut, followed by an elbow to his face. As Batman stumbled backward, Red X drop kicked him in the chest, catching himself on his hands and flipped back over onto his feet. Red X charged him, but Batman threw a series of batarangs at him. He deflected them by raising his gauntlets; the projectiles skirled off of them, and then Red X, threw a series of punches at Batman.

Batman blocked a few of them, and took a few more, then he grabbed Red X’s arm and twisted it. Red X hissed, then Batman landed a punch to his face, followed by another, and another, until the faceplate of his helmet broke, the pieces raining down to the ground. Red X snarled and kicked at him, freeing his arm. He slinked back a little, clutching his arm and shoved himself into a wall, popping it back into place, while Batman came at him again. Red X ducked a swing, then speared Batman in the gut. Pinned to the ground, he rained punches down on Batman’s face. Batman managed to buck him off, then grabbed him by the back of the armor again and threw him into what remained of a wall. Red X, his helmet trashed, tossed it aside, still wearing a black domino underneath.

“Fuck you and your moral code! How many people have died because you’re a coward?! Grave’s victims could still be alive if you had the  _balls_ to make the tough calls. Instead, you choose to come after  _ me! _ To lecture  _me!_ You can go straight to hell!” Jason hollered at him, drawing a dagger and swinging it at the man. Batman deflected the blow, then elbowed his arm, not enough to break it, but to force him to drop the dagger.

“You’re a killer, no better than the people you claim to be fighting against!” Batman shouted back. “You can’t build a better world on top of a mountain of corpses!” Batman landed three more blows to Jason’s face, before throwing him to the ground and wiping the blood from his own nose. He pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his utility belt and approached Jason.

“Kate was right; you  _ are _ a victim Jason. But it doesn’t justify your crimes. The staff at Arkham can help you,” Batman said in an even tone. Suddenly, Batwoman dropped out of the air and kicked him in the face. She stood between him and Jason, glaring the bat down.

“Jason, are you okay?” she asked. There was a groan from Jason as he struggled to sit up, then Arsenal and Black Canary arrived on the scene minutes later. Another minute, and Nightwing arrived.

“Roy, I got your call. God, it Jason--” Nightwing breathed when he saw the man.

“He’s fine, but we gotta go now,” Roy said to him, as he slung Jason’s arm over his shoulder. “Shit’s about to hit the fan,” he added, nodding toward Batman who was rising back to his feet. 

“Go. Take Jason to safety. I’ll handle Batman,” Batwoman barked, eyes narrowing as she glared at Batman. When the man recovered, he glared back at her.

“Kate. What do you think you’re doing?” Batman enunciated each word, reflecting the anger in his tone. Batwoman snorted.

“I thought that would be obvious. I told you, I was going to protect Jason, even from you,” she spat.

“I’m trying to help him!” Batman shot back.

“By what? Beating him to a pulp?! Sending him to Arkham?! Arkham, of all places! That’s the  _ last place  _ on Earth he’d get the help he needs!” Batwoman was under no delusions that she could take Batman head on. No, to defeat him, she’d need something to give her an edge.

“Don’t pick this fight, Kate,” Batman said in warning. Batwoman’s eyes narrowed as she drew a gun from his hip; the very same make and model that was used to kill Bruce’s parents. Batman flinched at the sight of it, then Batwoman fired it, firing a blank. And as she did, she pulled a pearl necklace out of her utility belt and intentionally broke it, scattering the pearls onto the ground. It was a low blow, exceedingly low, but the plan was to trigger his PTSD. And it worked.

Batman looked down on the ground with a horrified expression as the pearls rolled across the ground. Batwoman lurched forward and kneed him in the face. As he stumbled backward, she landed several consecutive blows, before striking him in the face and sending him crashing to the ground on his back. “Sorry Bruce. But I can’t afford to play fair. Not when Jason’s life is on the line,” she muttered softly. “Dad? Contact Alfred. Tell him to come pick Bruce up.” Batwoman stared down at him for a moment, feeling a twinge of guilt.  _ For Jason . _ She thought to herself, before firing a line and disappearing into the night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They brought him _home_. Instead of taking him to Blackgate or Arkham, they _brought him home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice little break from the dark stuff. Enjoy the fluff. It will not be so fluffy in the next chapter. >:3
> 
> On an unrelated note, I keep reading Jacob Kane's dialogue in my head, with Michael Hogan's voice. So, have fun with that. Now you will too. >:D

_ Little Jason, no older than ten, sat in his bed and clutched the covers with his little brown dog Sparky curled up against him. It was late at night, the moon light shining through the window. He heard the floor creaking, moving toward his bedroom, and he was scared. The little boy hugged his dog as his door crept open, and his father was standing there with his shotgun.  _

_ “One of these days,” his father muttered, the smell of alcohol hanging thickly around him, “I’ll solve my two problems. Starting with you boy.” _

Jason bolted up, waking with a start and covered in a light sheen of sweat. His black hair hung messily in front of his eyes, which were wide open, adrenaline surging and anxiety racing as he looked around the room. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, steadying his breathing and calming himself. 

He combed a hand through his hair, brushing it back and out of his eyes, azure orbs darting around the room and trying to ascertain where he was. He looked down at himself and the first thing he noticed was that he had been changed out of his gear, wearing naught but a pair of black dorm pants. The next thing he became aware of, was a purring sound nearby. He turned and saw Figaro, who had grown  _ a lot _ . His breath hitched at the sight of the cat, and then he quickly swung his legs over the edge of the bed, looked around the room and found he was--

“Home…” he murmured. He stood there in stunned silence, in the middle of his old bedroom, not sure how he got there and why. But then the memories came back; he’d fought Batman last night, and he lost. But as he looked himself over for wounds, hands running down his chest and his sides, everything seemed perfectly fine. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but he was pretty certain he’d taken a  _hell_ of a beating. 

But something about this wasn’t right. He put his guard up, wary of the situation. He glanced down at Figaro as the cat rubbed against his legs and purred. He gingerly picked the cat up and patted him, lips curving into a smile. But was this real? When he was Grave’s prisoner, his dreams were filled with visions of being home again, with Figaro, with Kate and Jacob, and with...with Dick. 

He closed his eyes shut and opened them again, and yet he was still here. He then padded cautiously out of the room, glancing out the window; it was still early in the morning, no trace of the sun, save for the sky being lighter on the horizon. As he padded out of the room, however, he found everyone passed out in the living room; Roy was passed out in an armchair and Dick was spread out on the couch. He tilted to the right a little and could make out a form in Kate’s bed; probably Kate. He then looked toward a corner of the living room and saw his Red X gear carefully stacked in the corner.

They brought him  _home._ Instead of taking him to Blackgate or Arkham, they  _ brought him home. _ If he were honest, there was a part of him that felt like he didn’t belong here anymore, that he didn’t  _ deserve  _ to be home. But he was home again, after being away for more than a year, after being held in a lab and  _ tortured,  _ and  _ experimented  _ on. After training for months with Slade, after combating Grave and killing them (rightly so, he’d argue),  _ after all of that  _ they brought him  _ home.  _ He was  _ home again. _ The thoughts kept playing in his head, over, and over, and it almost felt...overwhelming.

“Jason, you’re awake?” came Jacob’s voice. Jason looked up in alarm when the man rounded the corner, fully dressed and coming from the hidden elevator to the Command Center above the loft. “It’s okay, you’re safe here. You’re home,” he added, flashing a smile and gesturing around the room. Jason swallowed hard and slowly sat down at the kitchen island. It suddenly felt like the world was spinning too fast; one moment, he was Red X, fighting Grave alongside Deathstroke, and now he was at home.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Jason murmured, glancing at the counter top as Figaro jumped up and started nudging his hand looking to be petted. Jason’s lips curved into a smile again as he obliged. Jacob sat at the island across from him and also reached over to pet Figaro.

“You belong here, Jason. No matter what’s happened, this is your home. Katie missed you-- _ I _ missed you, kiddo,” Jacob answered. Jason glanced back toward the living room, looking over all of his friends who had obviously crashed here  _ for him . _

“I can’t stay. Grave--” 

“We’ll deal with Grave  _ together .  _ Deathstroke conned you, kiddo, he’s--” Jacob interrupted, but Jason rose to his feet and shook his head.

“Slade trained me because I  _asked_ him to. He didn’t take advantage of me, didn’t lie to me, or manipulate me,” Jason replied, remembering to keep his voice down so as not to wake the others. “I knew what I was signing up for when I asked him to train me. Grave wanted to turn me into a weapon, and I offered Slade the opportunity to train me, and turn me against them.”

Jacob listened without judgement of remark, then gestured toward the stool at the kitchen island. Jason sighed and sat back down, then Jacob cleared his throat.

“I’m ex-military. I still hear things though, still remember my training, the whole nine yards,” he started, folding his arms on top of the counter. “It might surprise you to hear that...I don’t necessarily disagree with how you’ve been handling Grave.” Jason’s eyebrow rose in response to that, because that’s not what he’d been expecting. But Jacob raised his hands defensively.

“Perhaps it’s just me, thinking like a soldier. But I  _ do  _ see the value in sparing their lives. Think about it; they were victims, like you. Tortured, twisted, and turned. Maybe they deserve a chance too?” Jacob asked. Jason frowned at Jacob’s words, but then he began to recall what he’d seen at that lab. He remembered that one Reaper in Bludhaven, that asked him to ‘free him’. And he remembered thinking that that could have been him. And his expression softened a bit. But these Grims and these Reapers, they’d been with Grave for potentially years. Could they really be saved?

“Why did you bring me here?” Jason asked then, curious. There were a million other places they could have brought him, that would have been under Bruce’s radar. It didn’t seem like they were trying too hard to stay out of his reach.

“Well, we thought about having Roy take you to Star City to recover, via Zeta Tube. But we thought it might be a bad idea for you to wake up somewhere unfamiliar,” Jacob explained, turning in his chair until he was facing toward the living room. “We also considered Bludhaven,” he started, gesturing toward Dick “but that...well. We thought that might not be a wise choice.” Jason made a “hmph” sound and crossed his arms over his chest, but shifted slightly when Figaro hopped down into his lap. “So finally we decided--Kate decided--to bring you home. She didn’t want to run and hide from Batman.”

“I see,” Jason replied simply. He glanced down at Figaro and patted him, then looked around the penthouse, at everyone here...even Dick. He was mad at Dick, or part of him was, he thought. Maybe. It was...confusing. “I should go,” he muttered, rising to his feet. Jacob held up a hand to stop him for a moment. Jason stood in place and waited, staring at Jacob as a silence stretched between them for a few moments.

“Katie told me...to let you go if you decided to leave,” he began, then gestured toward his gear in the living room “but I ask that you at least stay for breakfast.” He flashed a smile to the young man and Jason felt uneasy. He didn’t feel like he belonged here anymore, like he didn’t...fit. After everything he’d gone through, and done (which he wasn’t sorry for)...but there was a small part of him that...wanted to stay.

“I…” Jason hesitated, biting his lip, then Jacob rounded the counter and gently pushed Jason down onto the stood at the island again.

“C’mon, let  _ me  _ cook for you, yeah?” Jason burst into laughter at failing to hold it back, forgetting for a moment where he was, and that Dick and Roy were just in the living room.

“ _ You,  _ cook?” He asked. Jacob chuckled in amusement and turned on the stove.

“Yeah. I may not have your fancy chef skills, but I cook a  _ mean  _ omelette,” Jacob replied with a grin on his face as he started grabbing some things out of the fridge. Jason allowed himself a small smile as he looked down toward Figaro, and then to the rest of the penthouse. Perhaps...a little normalcy couldn’t hurt.

“Jason, you’re awake,” came Kate’s voice. Jason glanced over toward her direction and saw Kate moving toward him, dressed in civilian attire; it was likely what she’d worn yesterday and had just gone to bed that way. But Jason looked away from her. Kate took notice, but approached him anyway, laying a hand on his shoulder. “We were worried, but it seems your wounds have healed just fine,” she commented, gesturing toward all of him. Jason looked over at her and flashed a weak smile.

“Yeah. I’m...fine. How long was I out?” he asked.

“About--” a voice came, interrupted by a yawn. Roy pushed himself up from the armchair and stretched his limbs. His Arsenal gear had been stacked beside the armchair, and he was dressed in a pair of jeans and a red t-shirt, the same one he wore that day the two of them spent the day together near West Point. “Seven hours,” he finished after his yawn, ruffling his own hair a bit. He padded toward Jason and stopped a few feet away, flashing a smile.

“Roy,” Jason murmured, lips curving into a smile despite himself. Roy grinned and moved closer, close enough to give his best friend a hug.

“Jay?” came another tired voice. Roy parted from Jason and stepped aside, out of his field of view. Dick gave a yawn, stretching his tired limbs. He was also dressed in civilian attire, in his case, a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. He approached, but kept his distance. Jason noted the nervous smile on his face.  _Good. I’m glad he’s nervous. He should be._ He was a bit taken aback by how petty that thought was, but held his tongue.

“I know I’m the last person you want to see, but...I’m glad to see you’re doing well,” Dick said to him. Jason gave a simple nod, but when Dick continued, he looked up again. “Um...maybe we can talk? Later? About...y’know--”

“Dick,” Jason interrupted. “I...can’t...right now. There’s Grave to deal with, and I have... _ way too many  _ emotions going through my head--” he said, punctuating it by digging his hands through his hair “--it’s too much right now.”

“I understand.”

“Order up!” Jacob called, sliding a rather delicious smelling bacon and cheese omelette, along with a glass of pineapple juice across the table to Jason. Jason gave it a smell and made an ‘mmm’ sound.

“Oh god, that smells good. Can you make me one, pretty please?” Roy asked politely. Kate chuckled a bit, and Dick playfully punched his arm. 

“I wouldn’t, Jacob. Roy will eat you out of house and home, if you give him the chance,” Dick replied.

“Are you calling me fat?”

“If the shoe fits.”

“Dickhead.”

Jason laughed, and that drew everyone’s attention, even Kate’s who smiled warmly at hearing Jason’s laugh again.

“I know you must have been through a lot Jason, but we’re all here for you. We want to help you. Will you give us a chance? Will you stay?” Kate asked, her tone making it clear that he could leave if he wanted to. The room went deathly silent, save for the sound of the pan on the stove as Jacob cooked. Jason balled his hands into fists and stared down at the floor, as if it possessed the answers he sought. A part of him wanted to continue his mission, to see it to completion, to see Grave chased away from Gotham forever. And yet...he’d missed home  _ so very much. _

“Are you sure….that I still have a place here?” he asked, voice faltering slightly as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to hold back the tears, as that one singular thought he’d had since realizing where he was, filled his mind again;  _ I’m home . _ Kate moved closer to him and hugged him, rubbing his back soothingly, and that was all it took for the dam to break; he cried.

“You’ve always had a home here and you always will. My door will always be open to you, Jason,” Kate said to him, struggling to hold back her own tears.

“Same, buddy. Drop by Star City any time!” Roy said cheerily, wrapping an arm around Jason’s shoulders.

“I...well...y’know. If you’re ever in Bludhaven,” Dick said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Hey, enough crying! Food tastes better when you’re in a good mood!” Jacob snapped, playfully, at them. 

“God, you’re such an ass old man,” Jason blurted out, causing everyone to laugh.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If I was a betting man, I’d venture a guess that Grave will target someone close to you all. A non-combatant. A soft target,” Slade replied. Jason abruptly rose from his chair.
> 
> “Are you sure about this?” he asked. Slade nodded in reply.
> 
> “They’re petty and they want to punish you for interfering in their business. They can’t really punish me, so they’ll settle for you Bats,” Slade answered. “Just a guess, but they definitely strike me as the type to enjoy petty vengeance." Jason paced a bit as he tried to think of everyone that they were close with who could be in danger. He himself didn’t really have anyone, at least no one that wasn’t sufficient in self-defense.
> 
> “I’ll have to alert the others,” Jason said, moving into the living room and grabbing his jacket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:3

Jason eventually left the penthouse on his own, his Red X gear tucked away in a duffel bag. He took his old motorcycle after Kate had given him the go ahead to take it; it was a unique model, tied to his fingerprints and wouldn’t be started without it. Though before he had left, an argument had ensued.

“You’re going back to Slade?!” Dick asked incredulously. Jason shot him a glare, but held his tongue for a moment while he collected himself, so he wouldn’t say anything he’d regret later.

“Yes, I am. Is that a problem?” Jason asked calmly, arching an eyebrow.

“Other than the fact that he’s an  _ assassin  _ with a higher body count than Ted Bundy, no, not at all,” Dick replied. Jason scoffed, lips curving into a sneer.

“Spare me your sarcasm. I don’t remember asking for your opinion,” Jason snapped back, temper slipping a bit. Roy placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hands, trying to find the right words to articulate Dick’s argument in a way that was less...well,  _ Dick Grayson . _ He meant well, but he was Bruce’s ward, had been Batman’s sidekick, and well…

“I think what Dick is  _trying_ so say, Jason, is--”

“I know what he’s trying to say. But Slade saved my life. And besides, Grave is still a threat. I told you all, I was going to finish this. It’s not over until they’re gone from Gotham, without a trace, just like the Court.”

“So you're still planning to--” Dick started hesitantly, but Jason interrupted, rolling his eyes.

“Kill them? No. I mean...if push comes to shove, I’m going to do what I need to do, but what gramps said to me earlier--”

“I’m old, but I ain’t your gramps, you little shit,” Jacob interrupted in a playful tone, causing Jason to flash a smirk as he held back a chuckle of amusement. 

“Grandpa--” Jason continued in tease.

“Watch it kid,”

“Convinced me that...maybe there’s a  _ chance  _ Grave’s people can be saved. They were victims, like me. I don’t know if I fully believe if we can help them or not, but I...guess it’s worth a try,” Jason finished. Kate smiled and gave a nod of approval, and Dick and Roy also seemed likewise pleased.

“Take your motorcycle. I kept it in top shape while you were...gone,” Kate said to him, giving a slight nod of her head. Jason gave a nod in reply, and then retreated to his bedroom. He dressed quickly, donning a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, and his favorite black leather jacket. Kate had bought it for him when he was fifteen, and he was happy that it still fit him. After that, he gathered up his things, and left.

His thoughts felt a bit scattered and disjointed by everything that had happened of late as he raced down the busy streets of Gotham on his motorcycle. Chief among them was Slade; it was doubtful he could convince him to ease up on Grave, but he had to try, even if he didn’t fully believe that Grave’s “enforcers”, their Grims and their Reapers, could be saved. He had been there as he watched Grave essentially hollow people out, ripping everything that made them, them, and replacing it with what they wanted. They were essentially dead on the inside, their only reason to live being to serve Grave and its interests. It was insidious.

Jason arrived back at Slade’s house in Avalon Hill, between Gotham and Bludhaven, parking his bike in the driveway and cutting the engine. He hefted his duffel bag over his shoulder and then made his way inside. The first thing he’d been met with, was the smell of bacon, which filled the air all the way from the kitchen.

“So the great Deathstroke knows how to cook. Color me surprised,” Jason called, closing the door behind himself and then tossing his bag of gear onto the armchair nearby. Slade didn’t even bother to turn around to face the young man, but still flipped him off.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, kid,” he called back over his shoulder. Jason kicked his boots off at the door and padded into the kitchen, dropping his jacket on the back of the couch as he went. He stepped into the kitchen just as Slade turned with two plates in hand; one with bacon, and one with eggs. He set them on the table, then turned and grabbed another plate for himself.

“Help yourself, kid. Though I’d wager you’ve had your breakfast back at your cozy little penthouse, am I right?” he asked, stabbing at some eggs and grabbing some bacon. Jason was hardly surprised that the man knew where he was, but also annoyed. He flopped down into the chair and grabbed a single slice of bacon and munched on it.

“Yeah. I did. Thanks for leaving me behind, by the way,” he said sourly. Slade snorted softly, mostly to himself as he finished a slice of bacon. He pointed a fork at Jason and waited until he was done chewing.

“Your call kid, not mine. Heard Batman kicked your ass. Not surprising though; he’s got years of experience over you. I could’ve taken him myself though,” Slade replied. Jason scoffed and waved his hand dismissively.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re awesome. World’s Deadliest assassin, yadda yadda yadda. Whatever happened to “arrogance is for fools, not warriors?” Jason asked, arching an eyebrow. Slade waved his fork wielding hand dismissively, then stabbed at his eggs.

“It’s not arrogant if it’s true. I’m stating facts, not some opinion based off of some self-inflated, undeserved ego.”

“Well, you’re certainly humble,” Jason replied, rolling his eyes. Slade made an “ah” sound and held up a finger. He swallowed first and then made his reply.

“Slade has  _ some  _ humility. Deathstroke, not so much.”

“What? But you’re both the same person,” Jason argued. Slade waved his hand dismissively.

“Deathstroke is a tool, a weapon. A client points, and he kills as directed. Slade Wilson, however, does whatever the hell he wants. He’s no killer,” Slade replied. Jason arched an eyebrow.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Jason argued. Slade once again, made a dismissive hand wave.

“Sure it does. Deathstroke is a job. Nothing more.”

“But you enjoy your work, don’t you?” Jason asked.

“I do. I could sit here and explain if to you, but I don’t have the time, or the inclination,” Slade answered. Jason huffed in annoyance and shoved another piece of bacon into his mouth. A silence settled over the room for a full minute, broken only when Jason spoke up.

“Then what about this ‘petty vengeance’ of yours?” Jason questions. Slade raised his hand, chewing on a piece of bacon. Once he swallowed, he gave his answer.

“That, I’ll admit, is all me. Slade Wilson, not Deathstroke. Petty vengeance is my vice, I own that,” Slade admitted, earning a snort of amusement from Jason who couldn’t hold back a smirk.

“I think we need to proceed with caution. Maybe not kill  _ all of them _ ,” Jason said, changing the topic.

“Bats got to ya, huh?” Slade asked, glancing up at Jason. Jason snorted and crossed his arms over his chest.

“They just reminded me that these Grims and Reapers are victims, just like I was. It might be possible to help them,” Jason answered.

“Of course it is. Kill ‘em and put them out of their misery,” Slade interjected.

“Now you sound like Deathstroke,” Jason pointed out, arching an eyebrow. Slade waved his hand dismissively.

“No, I’m just being pragmatic. I don’t pretend to know what Grave did to them, but just look at ‘em; they follow orders, to the letter, without a word spoken. The Reapers seemed to have been allowed to keep just enough of themselves to speak and act as they see fit, but the rest? They’re dead. Or as good as. There’s nothing left of who they used to be. That’s no way to live. The merciful thing to do is kill them.”

Jason didn’t necessarily disagree with that, all things considered. He’d never heard a Grim speak, never seen one hesitate at a given order, never question, never feel, never falter. They were akin to wind-up toys, or robots, devoid of any willpower of their own. Perhaps, in this regard, Slade was right. But the Reapers, there was potential there; they didn’t  _ have  _ to kill them.

“Done trying to rationalize it, kid?” Slade asked, stabbing at the last piece of his egg. Jason frowned at him but said nothing in reply. He let the silence build for a bit, giving himself some time to think.

“So, what’s our next move?” Jason finally asked. Slade finished his meal and then got up from the table to take care of his plate. Once he finished washing it, he turned around to face Jason and leaned back against the sink.

“I’m glad you asked. My intel suggests that we have indeed kicked the hornet’s nest. Grave is  _ pissed, _ ” Slade explained, and Jason couldn’t help but to grin; music to his ears. “Unfortunately, they’re keeping their cards close to their chest; there’s no intel on what they’ll do next.” That was somewhat disappointing. “However,” Slade began once more, pausing.

“What?” Jason asked impatiently.

“If I was a betting man, I’d venture a guess that Grave will target someone close to you all. A non-combatant. A soft target,” Slade replied. Jason abruptly rose from his chair.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. Slade nodded in reply.

“They’re petty and they want to punish you for interfering in their business. They can’t really punish me, so they’ll settle for you Bats,” Slade answered. “Just a guess, but they definitely strike me as the type to enjoy petty vengeance." Jason paced a bit as he tried to think of everyone that they were close with who could be in danger. He himself didn’t really have anyone, at least no one that wasn’t sufficient in self-defense.

“I’ll have to alert the others,” Jason said, moving into the living room and grabbing his jacket. “Are you--”

“I’m sitting this one out, for obvious reasons.” Jason stopped by the door as he slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and kicked his boots back on.

“Have you ever considered playing the hero?” he asked in an amused tone. 

“Pfft. Tried it a couple times. Playing hero isn’t my cup of tea, but you go right ahead and knock yourself out.”

* * *

After Jason returned to the penthouse to relay what Slade suspected. Fortunately, Roy and Dick were still there. When he finished telling them all what Slade had thought of the situation, nobody questioned it; this was what the man did for a living, so it was reasonable that he knew what he was talking about. Furthermore, it was the most logical conclusion; if Grave was pissed, they’d be out looking to do some damage. They didn’t waste any time. Kate contacted Dinah and Leslie while Dick contacted Barbara and Bruce. Barbara could easily keep tabs on her father and be their “eyes in the sky”. It was also safe to assume that Alfred would be safe in the manor, namely down in the Batcave. Lastly, Tim’s father was still out of the country, so they didn’t need to worry about him. The fifteen year old had checked himself.

All of them had split up to keep their eyes on the people close to them, ready to intervene if Grave so much as glanced at them; Bruce went out on patrol as Batman and had Alfred seal himself in the Batcave for the time being. He sent Tim to help Barbara keep tabs on her father. Roy had gone to see Dinah to let her know what was going on. She could fend for herself, but the backup would be appreciated, he knew. Dick returned to Bludhaven for the time being; he’d learned it was thanks to Jason that Grave lost their foothold in his city, but he had some friends there he wanted to keep his eyes on, just in case.

That left Jason and Kate to guard over Leslie Thompkins. They were all connected via commlink through the Clocktower, including Jason. Kate had made it a point from the start to warn Bruce off; he still seemed pretty angry about the stunt she pulled last night, but she didn’t particularly care at the moment.  _ She  _ was still pissed at him for what he did to Jason.

Currently, Red X and Batwoman sat perched atop a building across the way from Leslie’s East End Free Clinic. They’d kept a close eye on her and the clinic, with Batwoman following Leslie when she left, leaving Red X to watch the clinic.

“You know, you could become Lark again. A few adjustments and your gear would be up to date,” Batwoman commented, glancing over at him. The two of them were crouched down, side-by-side, eyes on the clinic and eating Fast Food from Batburger. 

“Tempting, but no,” Red X replied, after a few moment’s consideration. He glanced over at her, face obscured by the helmet. “Lark Is Batwoman’s sidekick. I don’t want to be a sidekick anymore. I want to be my own man, my own--” he paused, because he wanted to say  _ hero _ , but that label didn’t feel like it fit him. “I’m a little too old for Lark now, I think. I’m twenty. Lark was...a cute idea I had when I was fifteen. When I was a dumb teenager.” 

Batwoman’s lips curled into a grin at his reply; she still remembered what it was to be young, and dumb, and in her case, a pain in her father’s ass, bless his soul. She looked over at Jason though, and a part of her, the ‘motherly’ part of her perhaps, still saw that boy she found in the Bowery, jacking the tires off of the Batmobile. She still saw the happy teenager who was grateful for  _ everything  _ she did for him, or bought for him. Red X glanced over at her.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing. Just...reminiscing,” Batwoman replied, turning her eyes back onto the clinic. Red X was silent for a time, turning his attention back to the clinic as well.

“The Jason you remember is...he’s gone. Been gone for a while,” Red X muttered.

“He doesn’t have to be. Not forever.”

“Hmm…”

A couple more hours passed and all was still silent. Grave hadn’t made a move against anyone. Nightwing reported no sightings in Bludhaven; all was quiet there. The manor was also quiet, along with everything in Barbara’s neighborhood. Roy and Dinah had also reported nothing out of the ordinary. And nothing seemed out of place where Leslie was concerned either.

“Oh no,” came Tim’s voice over the comm, tone sounding stressed.

“What is it?” Bruce’s followed. They could hear the anxiety in Tim’s voice as he spoke.

“I-I just got a text from my dad. H-he’s come home early! He wanted to surprise me! He’s back at Drake Manor right now!”

“Jack is in danger! We have to move  _ now _ !” Red X shouted, jumping to his feet. Batwoman followed suit as the other jumped off of the building and touched down to the ground below, then hopped onto his motorcycle. The two of them took off down the street, heading toward Bristol Township.

“Calm down, Tim. Jack is in my neighborhood, I’m heading there now!” Bruce’s voice came over the comm again.

“Hurry!”

* * *

Nightwing was too far away to help, but he took the Wing Glider to Gotham anyway. Everyone converged on Drake Manor, and met up just outside of Bristol Township. When they arrived, they could hear gunfire from inside the manor, accompanied by the sounds of combat.

“Dad!” Robin shouted, rushing for the house with everyone else hot on his heels. Robin threw open the door to see the place in shambles and heard the sounds of a struggle. The others poured in after him, looking for Jack. What they found instead was Deathstroke, fighting off a Reaper. The battle had clearly not gone in the Reaper’s favor, judging by his various wounds. Deathstroke finally landed the killing blow, however, running the Reaper through the heart with his sword. As the Grave assassin fell dead to the ground, he pulled out a switch, but Deathstroke kicked it aside, pulled out a gun, and shot it, destroying it.

“Where’s my dad?!” Robin demanded to know, approaching Deathstroke without hesitation. The assassin turned to the teen, wiping his blades off on the dead Reaper’s gear, then sheathing them.

“Sorry kid,” he said simply, throwing down a smoke bomb to make his escape. After the smoke cleared, Robin raced through the manor, looking for his father,

“Dad!” he shouted again, with everyone behind him, hoping to find the man alive. “Dad!” Tim cried out, peeling off his mask and tossing it aside. Gasps filled the room as they watched Tim drop to his knees by his father;s side, a dagger sticking out of his chest. Tears streamed down Tim’s face as he grabbed his father’s hand. “Dad, please don’t go!” he sobbed. 

“Proud…of you,” the man murmured, his hand gently brushing against his son’s face. Tears continued to stream down the teen’s face as he held his father’s hand, and watched helplessly as he breathed his final breath.

“Dad! Dad!” Tim cried out. Bruce removed his cowl and knelt down beside Tim, hugging the boy to his chest as he cried his heart out. The others stood by, stunned into silence.

But Red X clenched his fists, rage boiling up inside him.  _ He was innocent. He was a father! And Tim had to watch him die! Because \--  _ his thoughts were interrupted and his eyes widened behind the helmet.  _ He died, because of me. Because I… _ “Red?” 

Batwoman asked, looking around for him. “Jason?” she asked again, looking around the manor for him, but he was gone. And she had a sinking feeling in her chest that things were about to get  _ even worse _ .


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason stood on a hill in the distance wearing a black suit and tie, watching it all. He’d thought it best if he didn’t go. He felt responsible. If he hadn’t kicked the hornet’s nest, if he hadn’t antagonized Grave, Tim’s father would still be alive.
> 
> “It ain’t your fault, kid. You didn’t stab Jack. Grave did,” Slade tried to reassure him, stepping up beside the young man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap. Over 4k words and still going. I had to cut this thing in nearly half, but at least the next chapter is about halfway done, lol. This was supposed to be 1 chapter before the grand finale begins, but it looks like that'll be another chapter away, still. x)

Jack Drake’s funeral was held a week after his death after all of the arrangements were made. Tim, for his part, found that he had so many responsibilities now. He had inherited his father’s money, his company and various business dealings, Drake Manor, and more. 

But Bruce stepped up and took charge of everything, placing Lucius in charge of the business side of things, so Tim could have time to grieve. He paid for the funeral, all expenses, took care of the inheritance, the lawyers, everything. 

Bruce, Dick, Alfred, Tim, Barbara, Kate, Jacob, Leslie, and a host of other people were gathered at a private cemetery plot not far from Drake manor, reserved for Tim’s family, where they were laying his father to rest, beside his mother. Everyone had an umbrella to shield themselves from the rain as it poured down hard. Bruce and Alfred each had a hand on one of Tim’s shoulders, with Dick directly behind him. Tim stared at his father’s casket, trying to put on a brave face, trying not to cry, but he’d already failed several times. And Dick, like a big brother, hugged him.

Jason stood on a hill in the distance wearing a black suit and tie, watching it all. He’d thought it best if he didn’t go. He felt responsible. If he hadn’t kicked the hornet’s nest, if he hadn’t antagonized Grave, Tim’s father would still be alive.

“It ain’t your fault, kid. You didn’t stab Jack. Grave did,” Slade tried to reassure him, stepping up beside the young man. Jason glanced over at him and noted he was similarly dressed in a black suit and tie. He turned his eyes back toward the funeral in the distance.

“You tried to help him, didn’t you?” he asked. Slade didn’t answer, not right away.

“I did. Every now and again, I might attempt a good deed. Shit didn’t work out this time, though,” conceded Slade. Jason gave a simple nod, silently wishing he had done more. Or less. “You feel guilty because you think you caused this by pissing off Grave, but let me share a secret with you, kid,” Slade commented, as if reading Jason’s mind. He patted the young man on the back, a gesture that confused and surprised him.

“And that is?” he asked. Without looking at him, eyes on the funeral ahead, Slade answered “you’re gonna piss off some pretty bad people. No matter what you do, you’re going to step on some toes. How they respond, is never your fault. But you don’t stop doing what you’re doing, just because someone knocks you down.”

“You’re sounding awfully wise at the moment,” Jason interrupted, but Slade continued on, unperturbed, ignoring Jason’s comment.

“You get back up, and knock ‘em back. If you stop, you let ‘em win. I don’t know about you--” Slade finished, trailing off as he turned to leave “--but I’ve never been one to back down from a fight.”

“This is more than a fight,” Jason replied. Slade gave a wave back to Jason as he kept walking away.

“It’s one battle, in a war. Walk away now, and they win. More people will die.” Jason considered the man’s words as he watched his retreating form for a few moments longer, then turned back to the funeral. Perhaps Slade was right; if he gave up now, Grave would win, and  _more_ people would be hurt. Eyes narrowing, he tempered his resolve and turned to follow after Slade.

“Fine then. Let’s finish what we started,” he said to Slade. The man smirked slightly and gestured for him to follow.

“Good, just what I like to hear.”

“But we need something  _ decisive. _ I’m tired of hitting small targets. We need something  _ big.  _ We need to  _ end this. _ ” Slade chuckled at Jason’s statement and looked over at the young man, once again patting him on the back.

“Then you’re going to like what I’ve found. While you were out and about on your own, busting heads and avoiding your friends and family--” Jason sneered at the comment, tempted to make a reply, but he resisted. “--I’ve been doing some hunting. And I  _ may  _ have found some things out that Grave wouldn’t want anyone to know.”

“Great. Let’s nail them to the wall-” Jason replied, punching his fist. 

“Slow down. It’d be stupid to charge in without a plan. You’re pissed, I get it, but this is going to take  _ time .  _ We may only get one shot at this.” Jason frowned but nodded. As much as he’d prefer to rake them over the coals  _ now _ , he knew it would be better to wait and do things right so as to avoid giving Grave a chance to recover and retaliate again.

“So...what do we do in the meantime?” Jason asked. Slade stopped in front of his car, a rather uninteresting and ordinary thing by all accounts, but the better to blend in, he supposed.

“We? No,  _ I. _ You do whatever you want, but I’d suggest fixing shit with your little Bat Clan,” Slade replied, making a shooing motion. Jason arched an eyebrow, flashing Slade a puzzled look. Since when did he care about that kind of thing. Slade seemed to know what he was thinking though. As the man hopped into the car and started the engine, he leaned out of the window and looked at Jason.

“Look, kid, you got a family, right? I’m a father, a pretty damn shitty father. And I was an even shittier husband. Don’t be a dumbass, you don’t wanna blow something like that.” He pointed toward Dick, specifically, then took off without another word.

* * *

Jason went to Dinah’s dojo first. He and Dinah had formed a bit of a connection, a friendship, a few years ago after his outburst against a Gotham Thug. He had some anger issues, and issues with his past, that Dinah helped him to work through. Fortunately, Roy was there too, sparring with the woman in front of her class, a varied group of kids and young adults ranging from eight, to twenty years of age.

Jason watched the fight for the last few minutes that it lasted, right when Dinah grappled Roy in an arm bar and twisted his arm behind his back, pinning him to the mat.

“Ow, ow! Uncle!” Roy called out, followed by a chuckle of amusement, which was quickly followed by another “ow”. Dinah grinned at the red head and let him go, extending a hand to help him up. Roy took the offered hand and she pulled him to his feet. “Damn, keep falling for that move,” Roy pouted, rubbing the back of his neck. Dinah happened to look in Jason’s direction and smiled a bit. Roy turned and his face lit up.

“Alright everyone, get to practicing,” Dinah instructed with a clap of her hands as she and Roy made their way over toward Jason. Of course Roy grabbed Jason and pulled him into a hug, a gesture which Jason gladly returned.

“It’s good to see you buddy! I haven’t seen you in a week!” Roy beamed. Jason’s own smile faltered a bit. He felt a bit guilty for cutting Roy out like that so abruptly, but Roy seemed to know him pretty well, and jabbed him in the side with his elbow playfully. “Relax, I get it. You’ve been dealing with a lot lately.” Jason’s smile returned and he patted the red head’s shoulder.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“So how  _ are  _ you doing, Jason?” Dinah asked. Jason frowned a bit and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“I don’t really want to get into it right now. All the psychoanalyzing. I just came to see you,” Jason answered. Dinah raised her hands defensively and shook her head.

“It’s alright, you’ll talk about it when you’re ready. I understand. Just know that I’ll be here when you are,” Dinah reminded him. Jason gave a nod and she placed a hand on his shoulder. “It  _ is  _ good to see you though.”

“Come on, buddy! Let’s go take a walk and do some catching up!” Roy chirped as he wrapped an arm around Jason’s shoulders. Jason chuckled and did likewise, glancing back at Dinah.

“You two go ahead. Dojo is still open, and I’ve got some students to instruct. Have fun you two,” Dinah explained, waving them off. As the duo made their way out of the dojo, opting to take a little stroll around the block, Jason dug through his pocket for his phone and checked his messages. He had 1 from Slade and so he opened it.

“What’s up Jaybird?” Roy asked. Jason turned to Roy and flashed his phone in front of him.

“Text from Slade,” Jason replied. Roy smirked at the man and patted his shoulder.

“Wow, thanks for bein’ honest with me, Jaybird. I appreciate it,” he answered. Jason shrugged his shoulders as he read it.

“I feel I can trust you with anything,” Jason replied.  _> So we’re working with Batman now. Not exactly how I pictured this going, but we struck a bargain; we help each other to deal with Grave, and I promised not to drop too many bodies.<_ Jason rolled his eyes as he read the text; so that was what Slade was up to. It made a certain kind of sense, getting the “World’s Greatest Detective” on board. But Jason was, in a word, pissed with Batman. With Bruce. For obvious reasons.

_ > Great, thanks for the heads up. And why couldn’t I come and help?< _ Jason texted back. He glanced over at Roy to see the man glancing over his shoulder. When he was caught, Roy put on his best smile and raised his hands defensively.

“Just curious,” he said in his defense.

_ >Because your head’s not on right, kid.< _

_ >Will you stop calling me “kid”?< _

_ >Won’t make any promises, kid.< _

Jason frowned at the text, then let out an exasperated sigh. He closed his phone and shoved it back into his pocket, then turned to Roy.

“So apparently, Slade is working with Bruce now. That should be interesting,” Jason said flatly. Roy snickered in amusement at this particular turn of events, then gestured to Jason.

“Yes, because the last time you crossed paths, ended so well,” Roy teased, earning a glare from Jason. Roy raised his hands defensively and continued to snicker to himself.

“You don’t need to remind me. I remember clearly. I can still feel it, even if the wounds are healed,” Jason answered, pinching the bridge of his nose. Roy chuckled a bit and wrapped an arm around Jason’s shoulder, tugging him closer.

“Don’t worry, bud. If Batman ever goes Batshit again--”

“Puns Roy? Really?”

“--Ya got me to back ya up!” Roy grinned. Jason rolled his eyes and then scrubbed his face with his hands.

“God, between you and Dick, I don’t know whose more of a pain in the ass,” Jason joked. Roy’s grin broadened as he playfully jabbed Jason in the side with his elbow.

“Well, considering you and Dick used to fu--” Roy started but Jason clapped a hand over his mouth, face tinted pink.

“Do  _not_ finish that sentence. I’ll kick your ass right here in the street, and I don’t care who sees me.” Roy burst out laughing, and even Jason failed to suppress a grin.

“So do you feel any better yet, Jaybird?” Roy asked, flashing a smile. Jason chuckled a bit and raked a hand through his jet black hair, looking up ahead of them. They were already almost back at the dojo.

“Yeah, I suppose. You’re a good friend Roy. Thanks,” Jason answered. Roy shrugged his shoulders.

“Eh, I do what I can. But speaking of Dick--” Roy started. Jason frowned a bit, not liking where this was going. But it was Roy, so he was willing to hear him. “I think you two should talk,” he said. Jason sighed and shook his head.

“We have nothing to talk about,” he answered rather quickly. Roy turned to him and he frowned for a change.

“We both know that’s not true. I can see it in your eyes; you still have the hots for him. Bet you still undress him with your eyes too. Probably pop a bo--”

“Roy,” Jason scolded, face tinting pink again. Roy raised his hands defensively and shook his head.

“Hey, no need to get all defensive; Dick Grayson is hot. I’ve imagined him naked once or twice. Maybe even me--”

“Roy! TMI!” Jason interrupted, face burning. Roy just burst out in laughter and patted Jason’s back.

“What’s the matter? Imaging this hot, stunning body,” Roy began, gesturing to himself “completely naked too much for you to handle?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Jason let out a deep groan as he massaged his temples.

“Good lord, how are you and I friends?” he asked, pulling another giggle out of Roy.

“I dunno, but you’re the one who keeps coming back,” Roy retorted. Jason smiled as they stopped just outside Dinah’s dojo. He turned to Roy and pulled the red head into a hug, much to his surprise.

“Thanks Roy,” Jason murmured. Roy patted his shoulder.

“No problem buddy,” he answered. A silence settled between them for a few moments, until Jason finally asked “so...do you think I should go talk to Dick?”

“Absolutely! At the very least, you can get some closure on that chapter of your life and move on. But I think you guys can work this out,” Roy replied with a wink and a grin, patting Jason on the shoulder once more before moving into the dojo.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, what’s up Jay?” Dick asked.   
> “I, uh...came to talk,” Jason admitted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've given it a lot of thought since the poll ended in a 50/50 tie. And thus, this was the route I decided to go. Enjoy. ^^

Jason was, begrudgingly, going to Bludhaven to talk with Dick. He’d been avoiding everyone for the last week, but Dick especially. But after spending some time with Roy, having a heart to heart, because Roy had a way of getting past his guard, Roy convinced him to go and talk to Dick.

Bludhaven, also known as “Bloody Haven”, “The Devil’s Tongue” or simply “The Haven” by the locals was, in a word, corrupt. It was on par with, if not surpassing, Gotham City when it came to crime and corruption. And yet Dick had chosen this, of all places, to call his own.

But Jason was apprehensive about seeing Dick, were he honest with himself. Even as he entered the city, gazing at the “Welcome to Bludhaven” sign, he contemplated turning around. It wasn’t that he was scared; he wasn’t really sure what to feel. But Roy convinced him he should come, and he trusted Roy.

Dick’s apartment building came into sight and Jason swallowed hard. He felt nervous and he didn’t know why; it wasn’t like  _ he’d  _ done anything wrong! He hadn’t! Although, perhaps Roy had been on to something. Regardless, he was here, so he was at least going to see it through. He parked his motorcycle outside of the apartment building, then made his way inside, and up the stairs. He’d only been here a couple times in the past, but he remembered it by heart.

Jason found himself standing in front of Dick’s door, staring at it silently. He raised his hand several times to knock, but couldn’t bring himself to. Why was this so hard? He sighed and raked a hand through his hair, then finally worked up the courage to knock.

“JUST A MINUTE!” he heard Dick’s voice yelling from the other side of the door. Jason snorted with held back laughter when he heard a few choice swear words and the sound of the man tripping over something. Jason had to bite his lip to keep from laughing when he heard a less and subtle “fuck!” from just beyond the door. 

“Can I help--” Dick paused, his smile faltering when he saw Jason standing in front of his door. “You? Jason, what’re you doing here?” Jason rubbed the back of his neck and glanced inside the apartment; Tim was sitting on the couch.

“You seem busy. I can come ba--”

“No, no, come in, please,” Dick offered, stepping aside and gesturing into his apartment. Jason hesitated for a moment before he gave a single nod and then stepped inside. “Sorry about the mess. I uh...I’ve been meaning to clean it up,” Dick said to him, closing the door behind him. Jason looked around the apartment and was not surprised to see it was a mess, as per the norm. His eyes fell upon Tim though, who looked up at him with a blank expression.

“Tim...how...are you doing?” Jason asked nervously. Tim got to his feet and approached Jason. Jason swallowed, but Tim stopped just a few feet away. A silence settled over the room with Dick standing back, seemingly holding his breath. Tim finally looked up at Jason, teary-eyed. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Jason,” Tim said simply, drying his eyes on his shirt sleeve. “I never blamed you. I figured...that’s why you weren’t at the funeral.” Jason gave a nod in reply and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me. I thought, because I had to piss off Grave, your father died because of me.” Tim shook his head and then moved past him, heading for the door. 

“Hey Timmy, do you need me to drive you home?” Dick asked. Tim shook his head.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll call Alfred. Thanks for taking the time for me, Dick,” Tim answered, flashing a weak smile. Dick smiled back and shook his head.

“No problem kiddo. Think nothing of it,” he answered, stepping forward and pulling the teen into a hug. Tim hugged him back and let out a gentle sigh. “You can call me, or come to see me  _ anytime _ okay? Don’t ever think I’m too busy for you,” Dick told him, holding Tim at arm’s length to look him in the eye. Tim gave a nod as he dug through his pocket for his phone. Before he could get out the door, Jason placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Timmy, listen. Be careful, okay? I gather you must be thinking about revenge, or at least a part of you. But don’t let it eat at you, okay?” Tim stared at him for a few moments in silence, then just nodded before he turned to leave. Dick sighed and ruffled his own hair, then turned to Jason.

“So, what’s up Jay?” Dick asked. 

“I, uh...came to talk,” Jason admitted. He gave Dick a quick look over; he was wearing a pair of jeans and a white tank top and looked like he’d been having a lazy day. “Is Tim…” Jason started, looking away in shame. Dick patted Jason’s shoulder soothingly, and Jason allowed it.

“He’ll be okay.” Dick said softly, trying to reassure him. “Tim is...well, it’s only been a week. And the funeral was just a few hours ago--”

“This was a bad time,” Jason interrupted as he attempted to leave again, but Dick grabbed his hand and flashed a look that Jason couldn’t quite place. He gestured toward the couch. Jason nodded, kicking his shoes off at the door, then padded across the apartment to the living room, and sat down on the couch. Dick followed him and sat down beside him.

“We’ve all been a bit...out of sorts. But Jay, you should know, Tim doesn’t blame you,” Dick told him again. Jason looked over at Dick and managed a small smile.

“Doesn’t make me feel any better. If I hadn’t kicked the hornet’s nest, his father would still be alive,” Jason responded, eyes diverting to the floor again. Dick shook his head and dared to scoot closer to him.

“That’s not true, Jason. I think Grave would have come after us sooner or later. But let’s not talk about this now, okay? What’d  _ you  _ want to talk about?” Jason was silent for a time, but Dick waited patiently. He honestly didn’t know; he was only here because Roy suggested he come. Although,  _ maybe  _ he did know, and he just didn’t  _ want  _ to talk about it. 

“Are you here about... _ us _ ?” Dick asked, taking a guess as he leaned forward a bit to try and look at Jason’s face. Jason sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, diverting his eyes.

“No. You and Barbara are--”

“Not a thing. Not anymore,” Dick interrupted. Jason looked over at Dick in surprise; genuine surprise. They looked so... _ good  _ together. “We broke up. It wasn’t….I mean. It didn’t really...work out.”

“What happened?” Jason asked. Dick sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as he searched for the words.

“It’s kind of a long story. When you came back, we started talking and piecing it together,” Dick admitted. Jason frowned at his reply; what did that even mean? Dick seemed to pick up on that and gave a chuckle, patting Jason’s shoulder. “I’ll simplify it as best I can.”

“As if. You were never very eloquent, Dickhead,” Jason replied in jest. Dick arched a black brow, then snorted in a failed attempt to hold back his laughter.

“Really, Jason?” Jason started laughing too and just patted Dick’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from.” he admitted. But Dick had a feeling. When he collected himself he cleared his throat, drawing Jason’s attention.

“You’re still mad at me, aren’t you? Me and Barbara?” Dick asked. 

“You’re damn right I am!” Jason snapped, getting to his feet and moving away from Dick. He huffed in annoyance as he crossed his arms over his chest. He hadn’t quite meant to say it like that, but he’d kept those feelings in check, inside, for a while now. He’d been too focused on the mission to think about it, let alone process it.

“When you went missing,” Dick started, drawing Jason’s attention, “Kate, Barbara, and I started looking for you  _ everywhere .  _ It was about six months in, when everyone else...kind of gave up,” Dick said out loud, which didn’t make Jason feel any better. “I mean, there wasn’t much Jacob could do, but he held out hope. And I did too...until about...seven or eight months in. We started losing hope. That you were alive” Dick paused for a moment, eyes diverting to the floor. “That we’d ever see you again.”

“Yeah. You looked pretty happy with Barbara though,” Jason snapped again.

“That’s the thing; we weren’t as happy as you might have thought,” Dick replied with a sheepish smile. Jason’s expression softened a bit, then begrudgingly sat down again. “You see...You were my  _ boyfriend , _ and I...well...I loved you” Dick continued on, looking up at Jason and flashing  _that_ look.

“You can flash your baby blues at me all day, Dickhead. I’m still mad at you,” Jason snorted. Dick chuckled a bit but nodded.

“I understand. But you see...Barbara and I...we found comfort in each other. We kept searching, and, well...things  _ happened . _ We kind of fell for each other.” Jason frowned a bit, sensing that there was more to it than that.

“But?” 

“But...we weren’t...right for each other. We argued. A lot. We thought it was just typical couple stuff. But deep down I think we felt guilty,” Dick answered. Jason snorted again.

“Can’t imagine why.” Dick ignored the comment and continued.

“But also...well, we began to realize that what we had, wasn’t...it wasn’t  _ love  _ exactly. We were together because...because it made the pain easier, I guess? I...don’t know, exactly,” Dick tried to articulate, hand combing through his black hair and accompanied by a sigh. Jason’s expression softened once more, trying to understand exactly what Dick was trying to tell him.

“So...you two didn’t  _ love  _ each other the way you thought you did. It was just...dealing with the pain.”

“I...yeah, I think. We mistook it for something else. It’s hard to articulate. There  _may_ have been something there, I  _ don’t know . _ Maybe if the circumstances had been different, if there hadn’t been so much on our plates--” Dick paused, looking up at Jason “--if I hadn’t still been in love with you,” he said softly, in a hushed tone. He slowly reached across the couch, letting his fingers brush against Jason’s. Dick leaned in a little closer and Jason swallowed hard; he felt like that goofy teenager again, stumbling over himself over his crush.

“No. No!” Jason blurted out, jumping up off of the couch and away from Dick again. He caught the other man flinching away at his outburst and he’d be lying if he didn’t enjoy it just a little bit. “You can’t just... _ give up on me  _ to be with someone else, and then just expect me to act like it didn’t happen!”

“I didn’t give up on you, Jay--” Dick interrupted, attempting to explain, but Jason wasn’t hearing it.

“Yeah, no. You kept searching for me, but you and Barbara--” Jason started, fists clenching and relaxing at his sides. Dick flashed a look of guilt but didn’t argue that point.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he replied, eyes falling to the floor.

“Well, you did. Do you know how much it hurt to see you and Barbara together? And happy? As if….” Jason started, pausing again to swallow down his anger before it got the better of him. “You moved on. I went to Bludhaven hunting Grave, but I wanted to see  _ you .  _ But there wasn’t a place for me in your life anymore.” Jason started pacing, both hands combing through his hair as he tried to sift through his own thoughts and feelings.

“You know how fucking annoying it is that you and Roy...you both just...have this fucking way of making me blab about my  _ feelings . _ It’s...fuck!” Jason growled, turning back to Dick, briefly, before pacing again. Dick snorted with held back laughter, then Jason glared at him.

“It’s not funny!” Jason snapped at him. Dick straightened up and shook his head, but he couldn’t help but snicker again.

“It’s...a little funny,” Dick murmured. Jason’s scowl faltered, lips twitching but resisting the urge to smile.

“...Okay, fine, it’s a bit funny. But I’m still mad at you!” Jason snapped again, pointing at Dick. He heaved a sigh and then sunk into an armchair nearby, scrubbing his face with his hands. Dick swallowed hard at his next thought, then glanced over at Jason.

“So...are you and Roy…?” Jason’s head snapped in Dick’s direction at that and his face tinted pink.

“W-what?!” he spluttered in response, prompting Dick to snort with held back laughter. Jason quickly shook his head and hands. “No, no! We’re not...together. I mean--” he paused, blush deepening ever so slightly as he continued “--I’ve...thought about it. Us, t-together. B-but I don’t want to fuck up our friendship. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had, and I like things the way they are. If it didn’t work out between us, and things got weird? I...don’t know. I just--”

“ _ I’ve  _ dated him,” Dick put in then. Jason’s blush faded and his head snapped in Dick’s direction once more. “I...have a type...it seems. I have a thing for redheads. Wally, Roy, Kori--”

“Barbara,” Jason filled in. Dick just nodded. A silence fell between the two men. They avoided looking at each other for the duration, eyes wandering everywhere else. Then Jason pulled himself up out of the armchair and sat back down on the couch, away from Dick. Dick looked over at him, curious.

“I…” A blush settled across Jason’s face again. “I still...love you, Dick,” he murmured, voice barely audible. Dick’s own face tinted pink a little bit, but Jason still refused to look at him. He dared to scoot closer to him. “But...seeing you and Barbara? That fucking hurt.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Neither of us were thinking. We just...we fucked up. We saw something that wasn’t  _ really  _ there, and…”

“Fucking hell! I hate... _ feelings, _ ” Jason growled, arms crossing over his chest. Dick arched an eyebrow.

“You  _ hate _ feelings?” he asked. Jason glared at him.

“Yes! I hate feelings! This--” he gestured toward the space between them “--and me, gushing them out and, just… _ all of this . _ These feelings and this mushy crap. It makes my skin crawl. Ugh.” Dick busted out into laughter at that. Jason glanced over at Dick and even he started laughing. Once they regained their composure, Dick scooted closer to him once again. Jason sucked in a breath but made no move to scoot away from him. Then, Dick slowly reached out his hand to enlace his fingers with Jason’s.

“I know I hurt you Jay, and I’m  _ so sorry . _ ” Dick scooted a little closer and Jason’s face lit up again. “I’d  _ really  _ like it if you gave me a second chance? Please?” Jason looked away, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His thoughts and his heart were racing a thousand miles a second and once again, he felt like that dumb teenager, fawning over his crush. Did he really want to give this a second chance? Try to...pick up where they left off? Or just...start over? 

“I--” Jason started looking at Dick again. He groaned as words failed him, pinching the bridge of his nose. Words; no good. Impulse it was, then. Jason grabbed Dick by the collar of his shirt and pulled him forward, pressing his lips against the older man’s. Dick made a surprised noise but made no attempt to part from Jason. Instead, he squeezed the man’s fingers and kissed him back. 

This time, Jason was the one who moved closer. He reached out and cupped Dick’s cheek, fingers brushing over the soft skin, then sliding to the back of his neck. When the two parted, Jason’s forehead was pressed against Dick’s and the two of them stared into each other’s eyes. Jason let out a contented sigh.

“Is that a yes?” Dick asked as his lips curled into a smirk. Jason let out a soft chuckle, caressing Dick’s jaw with his thumb.

“Yes.” He then abruptly pulled away again and grabbed Dick by the collar of his shirt, glaring at him. “But if you  _ ever _ cheat on me again, I’ll break both your legs, and  _ then  _ dump you.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have we found Grave?” Jason asked, to which Bruce, with a glare in Jason’s direction, nodded. Though Jason was unaffected and opted to glare right back.  
> “We have. We believe Grave is located beneath Arkham Island,” Bruce explained.

Against his better judgement, Jason spent the rest of the day, and then the night, at Dick’s apartment. They shared Dick’s bed, but made sure to keep their hands to themselves. Well, mostly. As it turned out, Jason was a cuddler when he was asleep, with someone else in the bed with him. 

Dick thought it was adorable and certainly didn’t complain and move away. Although, it got a bit rough when the man had a nightmare and had started hitting him. Jason woke up, of course, and felt guilty. After a brief argument, Jason moved out onto the living room couch. It seemed like the better option anyway; Dick would have wanted Jason to  _ talk about it , _ Jason knew that, but he didn’t  _ want _ to. He wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. In truth, he couldn’t, because he’d rather forget it.

Morning came and Jason was still passed out on the couch; he’d been more tired than he realized. Dick was already at work in the kitchen, opting to let Jason sleep. It was almost ten in the morning. Though Jason finally began to stir, letting out a groan as he shifted on the couch and his eyes slowly drifted open. Jason let out a big yawn as he rolled over again, onto his stomach and let his arm drape over the edge of the couch. He laid there like that for a few moments before he finally pushed himself into a sitting position, yawning again and ruffling his own hair a bit.

“Morning Jaybird,” Dick beamed, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Jason looked up at him through tired eyes and messy bangs, unable to suppress another yawn.

“How are you able to wake up so fucking cheerful in the morning?” Jason yawned yet again. He glanced at the clock to see that it was just past ten in the morning, then pushed himself up onto his feet and stretched his tired limbs.

“It’s a gift,” Dick replied.

“It’s annoying,” Jason shot back. Jason sniffed the air and smelled food and it smelled good. “What’re you cooking?” he asked in a gentler tone.

“Your favorite; cinnamon chocolate chip pancakes,” Dick replied, flashing a smile. Jason stared at him suspiciously.

“You trying to get into my good graces, Grayson?” he asked, a teasing edge in his tone as he playfully punched Dick’s shoulder. Dick chuckled a bit and moved past Jason and into the kitchen, toward the stove.

“Maybe I am. Is it working?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at him. Jason sat himself at the table and brushed his hair out of his eyes. He looked around the kitchen, letting out another yawn, and saw coffee brewing.  _ Damn, I could use a cup of that. _

“That’s kind of cheating, Dickie. Coming at me through my stomach,” Jason teased. Dick giggled a bit as he slid a plate of pancakes across the table to Jason, as well as the syrup. He turned back to the stove to put on another couple of pancakes, grabbing a coffee mug out of the cabinet. While that cooked, he moved over to the coffee pot to pour Jason a cup of coffee.

“And yet, I don't hear you complaining,” Dick shot back without looking at him. He heard the fridge door open and looked to see Jason moving back toward the table with the whipped cream in hand. 

“Of course not; it’s  _ food _ , Dickie. I never say no to food.”

“Are you  _ really _ going to put whipped cream on your pancakes?” Dick asked, arching an eyebrow. He moved across the kitchen with the coffee cup in hand and stopped across the table from Jason, staring at him with an arched eyebrow.

“Uh, yeah?” Jason answered, glancing up at him before spraying some whipped cream onto his pancakes. Dick snorted in amusement, then slid the coffee cup across the table. Jason looked at it, and hummed appreciatively as he grabbed the cup and took a sip.

“You’re going to eat me out of house and home,” Dick joked, flashing a smirk. Jason pointed at him as he sprayed some of the whipped cream directly into his mouth, as if proving a point. He swallowed it before he spoke.

“Hey, I sucked your cock. Me eating your food makes us even,” he replied, and Dick burst into laughter at that.

“You’re in an awfully good mood this morning, for someone who just snapped at  _ me  _ for being in a good mood,” Dick pointed out. Jason gestured toward the table in front of him, his breakfast and the coffee.

“I have my favorite pancakes, a cup of coffee, and whipped cream. It’s not a bad way to start the morning,” Jason answered, cutting into his pancakes and taking a bite. Dick laughed and moved across the kitchen to finish cooking his own pancakes, then joined Jason at the table. “Actually, I feel pretty good,” Jason murmured. Dick looked up at him and flashed an inquisitive look. After a moment’s silence, just looked up at Dick and their eyes met.

“Yeah?” Dick asked.

“Yeah. I’d been...carrying a lot of stuff with me for a long time. Stuff about us. Talking with you last night, and getting it off my chest…it helped,” Jason admitted. Dick smiled and gave a nod. “And fucking Harper knew that, didn’t he? That fucker knows me too well,” Jason pouted, prompting Dick to laugh.

Another silence settled between them as the two men ate, broken only by the sound of silverware on the plate. Jason’s thoughts were going with a million different things he wanted to say or do. He wanted to check his phone, to see if Slade had updated him on the goings on of the mission, but he also wanted to just...ignore it for now.

“Thank you,” Jason said softly then.

“Hmm?” Dick hummed softly as he looked up from his food, to Jason, titling his head to the side a little. Jason finished the bite he was working on, then cleared his throat.

“Thanks for giving me a normal morning,” Jason clarified.

“What do you mean, Jay?” Dick asked, stabbing at his pancakes. Jason sighed and leaned back in his chair. He grabbed his coffee mug and took a sip, making a soft ‘mm’ sound.

“Everyone wants to help me. I get it. I’m fucked up. Who wouldn’t be after spending a few months being poked and prodded by Grave,” Jason snorted, waving his hand dismissively. “But you didn’t shower me with questions or prod me for answers. You were just... _ you … _ You gave me that  _ one  _ normal morning I didn’t even know I needed. A morning to just...forget about everything that happened.” Dick smiled at Jason when their eyes met.

“Of course. I know you’ll talk about stuff when you’re ready. Trauma is...hard to deal with,” Dick answered, to which Jason only gave a curt nod. Though the mood was interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“I’ve got it,” Jason said, but Dick jumped up first and encouraged Jason to continue eating.

“It’s alright. I’ve got it,” the older man assured. He moved across the kitchen and toward the front door. Jason was quite content to finish his breakfast, then gave his coffee a sip. “Uh, Jason? It’s for you,” came Dick’s voice from the living room. Jason could hear a hint of anger in Dick’s tone, but made sure to eat the last bit of his pancake before making his way into the living room to see Slade standing at the door.

“Slade? What’re you doing here?” Jason asked, padding over toward the couch first, to grab his phone up off of the coffee table.

“Looking for you! If you’d answer your damn phone, I wouldn’t have to hunt you down,” Slade snapped at him. Jason glared and unlocked his phone, looking through it; he had a dozen text messages and two missed calls from Slade.

“Whoops,” Jason replied in a flat tone. Slade snorted.

“Whoops? That’s all you have to say for yourself? Get your ass dressed and let’s go. We’ve got work to do,” Slade demanded. Dick scoffed and was tempted to slam the door on his face.

“Excuse me, who the hell are you to come to  _my_ apartment and give people orders?” Dick snarled at him. But Jason held up his hand as he pulled his jacket back on and kicked his boots on.

“It’s fine, Dick. I’ve been waiting for this for a while anyway. I’m assuming you’re here because we’ve finally found Grave?” Jason asked, turning his attention back to Slade. Slade crossed his arms over his chest and gave a nod. He glanced at Dick who was making his way to his bedroom.

“I’m coming with,” he called over his shoulder. Slade rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So I take this to mean you two have made up?” he asked. Jason snorted, but refused to answer. “Lemme guess; none of my business?”

“Oh look, he’s learning,” Jason replied with a smug grin. Slade glared at him, but Jason was unaffected. Dick came back out into the living room a few minutes later, dressed in a pair of dark jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black leather jacket with blue shoulders and the rim of its pockets also lined blue. He had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder as well, which Jason assumed to be his Nightwing gear.

“Hmm. Nice. I approve. It’s almost as nice as mine,” Jason joked, flashing a smirk. Dick chuckled in amusement while Slade just groaned.

“If you two are done flirting, I’d like to get moving,” Slade grumbled, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. 

“Fine. Let’s get going before he starts rambling about the old days,” Jason replied. Dick snorted with held back laughter behind him, closing and locking his apartment door. 

“You’re lucky I like you, kid,” Slade grumbled at him, but Jason ignored it.

“And by the way, we need to have a talk about your security,” Jason said to Dick, glancing at the man over his shoulder.

“What? What’s wrong with my security?” Dick asked.

“You don’t have any!”

“I do too!”

“Basic fucking locks, Dickhead! That’s  _ hardly _ security!”

“Jesus, you two sound like an old married couple!” Slade snapped at both of them.

* * *

Everyone had gathered at Slade’s house in Avalon Heights; Bruce, Kate, Barbara, Roy, Dinah, Dick, Jason, Tim, even Jacob and Alfred. Before he’d come to get Jason, Slade had insisted they meet somewhere out of either city, neutral ground. Although his house wasn’t exactly neutral ground, nobody had any better ideas. That aside, considering Grave’s presence and their recent moves, it was also the safest place in the region, second only to the Batcave. But both Bruce and Slade took issue with meeting there, for obvious reasons.

When Slade, Jason, and Dick arrived, everyone else was already waiting inside.

“Sorry we’re late. Apparently, Sleeping Beauty here was catching a few extra Z’s,” Slade commented as he came through the door, hooking a thumb over his shoulder toward Jason.

“Fuck you,” Jason snapped.

“How many times do I gotta tell you kid; you’re not my type.”

“Are you flirting with my boyfriend?” Dick asked, arching an eyebrow. Slade turned and walked backwards a bit, raising his hand defensively.

“You want him, fuckin’ take him. _Keep him_. He’s been nothing but a pain in my ass since I plucked him from that fuckin’ lab in Nevada,” Slade responded.

“The feeling is mutual,” Jason shot back.

“Wait, boyfriend?” Roy beamed in from his place on the couch beside Dinah. Alfred was preparing food in the kitchen with Tim’s help, while Jacob sat in an armchair near the couch, drinking coffee. Kate, Dinah, and Roy were occupying the couch, and Barbara stood beside it, while Bruce was content to stand in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room.

“Not now, Roy,” Dick said to him, chuckling a bit when the redhead pouted. Dick headed into the living room and took up the empty armchair, making himself comfortable. Jason felt uncomfortable in that moment when he and Kate’s eyes met; he’d spent a week avoiding her, and now, here they were.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road. The sooner we get this started, the sooner we can finish,” Slade announced.

“And the sooner you can get out of my hair,” Bruce added, glaring over at Slade. Slade snorted and waved his hand dismissively.

“Spare me your little Batglare. You don’t scare me,” Slade snapped at him.

“Well, we’re off to a running start,” Kate scoffed, rolling her eyes. Jacob made a ‘hm’ sound at that as he drained his coffee cup, but before anyone else could interject into this little argument--

“Here we are,” Declared Alfred as he and Tim brought in trays of food, mainly assorted muffins, blueberry, banana, and chocolate chip. Alfred set the tray down on the coffee table, and Tim followed suit, his own tray filled with cups of tea and lemon cakes.

“Tim, are you sure--” Jason started slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, but Tim shot him a determined look.

“That I should be here? Yes. I mean, I’m still so... _ angry . _ And... _ sad ... _ but I  _ want  _ to be a part of this,” Tim replied. Jason managed a small smile and nodded.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got this.”

“Now that we’re all done patting each other on the back and singing Kumbaya, let’s get down to business,” Slade declared. A silence fell over the room as the atmosphere grew more serious. Or mostly serious. Roy grabbed a couple of muffins and munched away happily.

“Mm, these are really good, Alfred,” Roy commented with his mouth full. That earned him a glare from the old man. Roy flashed an apologetic look as he swallowed and muttered a quick ‘sorry’.

“Have we found Grave?” Jason asked, to which Bruce, with a glare in Jason’s direction, nodded. Though Jason was unaffected and opted to glare right back.

“We have. We believe Grave is located beneath Arkham Island,” Bruce explained. Another silence fell over the room.

“Arkham Island? Well, shit. How’d that happen?” Jacob asked. Bruce pulled out a device from his pocket and set it on the coffee table. He activated it, and a holographic image of Arkham Island appeared.

“Beneath Arkham Island, is a system of caves. Some of these caves even travel underneath the Gotham River,” Bruce started to explain. Slade stepped forward with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Some of those same tunnels run close to Gotham’s sewer system. We’ve found a few places where Grave has punched through, connecting the sewers with the tunnels connected to Arkham Island.”

“Great, so we know where they are,” Roy commented, finishing his third muffin. He licked the chocolate off of his fingers, then added “so let’s get in there and smash ‘em once and for all.”

“I like that plan,” Jason commented, sharing a look and a smirk with Roy.

“Not so fast. We have no idea what we’ll be up against,” Bruce put in, drawing an annoyed groan from both Roy and Jason.

“Well, we can’t exactly sit on our hands,” Dick chimed in, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And recon will be impossible; Grave will see us coming before we even arrive. They’d had years to map out that cave system,” said Kate. Tim nodded in agreement.

“They’re right. So the question is, how do we do this without tipping off Grave?” Tim asked.

“Simple,” Slade called, drawing all attention onto him. “We stage a breakout in Arkham Asylum.”

“What?!” Everyone, save for Alfred and Bruce, shrieked in unison.

“Are you fucking crazy?! That’s where the most insane bastards in Gotham City reside!” Jason snapped, arm slashing through the air.

“I’m with Jason; that’s nuts! That would also include releasing the Joker, and that’s insane!” Dick added. Slade snorted and waved his hand dismissively.

“So what? You act like it’s the first time he’s ever escaped from the Asylum before. Like it’s the first time any of them have.” A silence fell over the room, because there was truth to that. Arkham was… _less than_ secure. But the idea of staging a breakout? Of letting all of those inmates lose?

“It’ll draw Grave’s attention away from us. They’ll have to divert resources to ensuring that nobody accidentally discovers the tunnels beneath Arkham,” Bruce commented then.

“And in the meantime, we can hit them from the sewers. It’ll give us the time we need to find their base of operations and hit them.  _ Hard . _ ” Slade added.

“It’s risky, but it could work. I can come out as Batgirl, and help Batman “quell” the rioting in Arkham, to make it look good, while you guys hit Grave,” Barbara agreed. Another silence pervaded the room as everyone contemplated the plan they’d devised. There were a lot of risks to it, but if they pulled this off, they could drive Grave out of Gotham City.

“I don’t like it, but it’s the best we’ve got,” Jason said then. He grinned and punched his fist. “I say we do it. It’s time to put Grave down for good.” That seemed to settle it for everyone else, as they all nodded in agreement.

“Good. Then gear up, and let’s prepare,” Bruce declared. The lot of them got up from where they were sitting, having brought their gear with them and stored it down in Slade’s personal armory. But Jason made his way toward Kate first.

“Kate--” Jason started, then rubbed the back of his neck and corrected himself “--mom. I’m sorry. For, y’know. Avoiding you,” he said. Kate just flashed a smile and pulled him into a hug.

“You don’t have to apologize. I understand. You’ve suffered a lot, and with Jack’s death, I guessed you were feeling guilty. So I gave you your space,” she replied, cupping his cheek. Jason smiled and gave a nod.

“Yeah, thanks. But there was something else I wanted to talk about,” Jason answered. Kate shushed him and gestured for him to follow her. He did so, and joined everyone else in the armory as they were gearing up. Kate gestured toward a duffel bag she’d brought, sitting beside her own. Jason stopped in front of it, glancing over at her as she began pulling on her own gear.

Jason, after some hesitation, opened the duffel bag and grinned at what was inside. 

* * *

The team began gathering just a short distance away from the bridge to Arkham Island, all of them atop of a building overlooking the street below and the river ahead. They had a perfect view of the Asylum from where they were. 

Deathstroke, Batman, Batwoman, Batgirl, Robin, Black Canary, Arsenal, and Nightwing were gathered and ready to take on Grave. They’d spent the entire day planning this two-pronged assault, one on Arkham, and the other on Grave itself. The last rays of the sunset shone over the horizon as they waited for Jason to arrive; he’d opted to stay behind and “make some last minute adjustments” to his gear.

“Sorry I’m late. It took a bit longer than expected. I’ve grown a lot since I last wore this number,” came the man’s voice from behind them. They all turned to see him, Arsenal, Nightwing, and Batwoman all grinning from ear to ear when they beheld him. Jason wore a more familiar outfit, black and gold with a gold bird symbol emblazoned on his chest and a black domino mask.

“Glad you could join us, Lark.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You forgot that I’m in this show!” came Deathstroke’s voice, as he dropped down through the cave ceiling above, impaling a Reaper on his sword as he landed on top of him. Lark grinned from ear to ear when he arrived.  
> “Five verses fifty; I like these odds,” Lark called to Deathstroke. Deathstroke turned to him and snorted.  
> “It’s still not a fair fight,” he answered, turning back to the two Reapers who were approaching him. “They’re way over matched.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this was a loooong one. But it was a fun one. <3 Please do enjoy it. ^^

Lark crouched down beside Batwoman with Nightwing on his other side. He glanced back and forth between the two of them and noted that they were both smiling at him. Lark smiled in return and gestured to himself.

“It’s good to be back. But don’t get used to it. This is one last ‘fuck you’ to Grave,” Lark said to them both. He turned his attention back toward Arkham Island and then continued “I think maybe it’s time I struck out on my own, after this. I don’t know about Red X though. He was kind of born from a dark place.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to worry about that later, once we take these bastards down,” Batwoman answered, patting his shoulder. Nightwing chuckled and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek.

“For now, it’s nice just to see you again, as Lark. Takes me back a bit,” he said. Lark smirked at him, then leaned in to steal a quick kiss before turning back toward Arkham again.

“So now we’re just waiting for Deathstroke to get this shitshow started. Do we really trust him not to kill anyone?” Lark asked, looking around at everyone, Batman in particular.

“No,” Batman answered immediately. “But he’s the only one of us who can perform this part of the plan.”

“I just want to go on record as saying that this is a bad idea,” Arsenal put in, getting a nod of agreement from Black Canary.

“That’s one way to put it,” she said.

“We don’t have a lot of options. Besides, we’re here now, so we can contain this thing and keep it from getting too far out of hand,” Batgirl filled in.

“No, Arsenal and Canary are right; this is bad. It could easily go south,” Robin replied. Lark sighed at their arguing; he didn’t like it either, but it was all they had. He’d trained to work with what he had, both by Batwoman and by Deathstroke, but even he had to admit that this plan had its flaws.

“Do we have the teams decided? Who's going to attend the asylum? I’m going after Grave, and that’s non-negotiable,” Lark said firmly. The rest of them looked between each other, but it was Batman who spoke up.

“Batgirl, Robin, Black Canary and myself will handle Arkham. We have Alfred working from the Batcave for support,” Batman started. Batwoman picked up from there.

“That’ll leave me, Lark, Arsenal, and Nightwing to deal with Grave. My father can support us from the command center.”

“So Grandpa is playing a passive role this time, eh?” Lark teased.

“Listen you little shit--” came Jacob’s voice over the comm, prompting a round of chuckling from Batwoman, Arsenal, and Nightwing “--I may be a bit older, but I can still kick your ass.” Lark chuckled in amusement, hearing the playful tone in Jacob’s voice.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve got our backs, old man,” Lark replied.

“‘Course I do,” Jacob answered. Moments later, the alarms from Arkham sounded, blaring loudly and indicating a breakout. Batman held up a hand to stop them from acting; they were waiting on a signal from Deathstroke, waiting for it to escalate to a full scale riot. Every muscle in Lark’s body tensed, ready to pounce into action. The minutes ticked by like hours as Lark kept his eyes locked on the asylum. After what felt like an eternity (but was actually only ten minutes), they received a message from Deathstroke via comm link.

“Arkham Asylum is in lockdown. A riot has broken out. Grave team should get moving.” Lark wasted no time, glancing over at Nightwing, Arsenal, and Batwoman, before jumping down to the street below. He approached the nearest manhole cover and removed it, allowing the others to tread down into the sewer first, before following suit. 

“Okay, according to the schematics that Batgirl uploaded to the computer, you’ll wanna go 100 years forward. There’s another ladder that’ll take you down to a lower level. Follow that tunnel to a reservoir, and there should be a hidden entrance into the caves there somewhere,” Jacob explained to them over the comm. The group activated the night vision in their masks and proceeded down the sewer to the ladder leading downward. Eventually, they reached the reservoir that Jacob had mentioned, then spread out and began looking for the hidden entrance.

“Bah, sewer crawling, asylum riots, hidden entrances. Feels like we’re trapped in a bad action movie,” Arsenal joked as the group began searching along the walls. Lark snorted with held back laughter.

“In case you haven’t noticed, that’s pretty much the life we’ve chosen,” Lark replied. Nightwing laughed and glanced over at the other two.

“Are you saying that we  _ actually live _ like a bad action movie?”

“Uh, yeah. Every fuckin’ day,” Lark called back.

“I think I’ve found it,” Batwoman called, interrupting their banter. The three of them made their way toward Batwoman as she began to push a part of the wall out of the way. Lark joined in to help, and it revealed a tunnel behind it. They shared a look and without a word, made their way inside.

The tunnel went on and down for a good ten minutes. Aside from the chatter from their comms, the silence was deafening. None of them spoke, save for quiet wipers when necessary, so as to avoid alerting anyone that might be lurking down here. From what they heard over the comms, Batman and his group had joined the Arkham staff and GCPD in quelling the rioting. They would intentionally hold back and make sure it took more time than necessary so Batwoman and her team could catch Grave unawares. If that were even possible.

“Hold,” Batwoman whispered, holding her hand up to stop the others. The three men came to a stop and looked ahead; Grims were patrolling the tunnels ahead, at least a dozen of them.

“How do you wanna play this?” Nightwing asked. 

“Busting heads is out of the question, much as I prefer that approach,” Lark commented. Arsenal snickered behind him.

“So stealth then?” Lark sighed.

“Unfortunately. I’ll just have to suffer for a little bit longer,” Lark answered with an over dramatic tone. Batwoman turned to him, despite the smirk on her face.

“Alright, quiet. Let’s move. Stealth,” Batwoman said to them. The other three nodded in agreement and followed Batwoman’s lead. She took a few minutes to watch and memorize their patrols and then began the process of sneaking past them. As they progressed, she used hand signs to signal them; when to proceed, when to stop, when to hide, and so on. 

They seemed to be on the right track, as they further they went the more of Grave’s operatives they found. But finally, they arrived at what they assumed to be the Central Hub of Grave’s operations; in a wide open cavern, deep beneath Arkham Island, they found what almost looked like the Batcave; with multiple floors, Reapers and Grims everywhere, Scientists and various other staff working on god only knew what. Worse still, were the slaves held in cages or test tanks, being poked, and prodded and experimented on.

“Lark,” Batwoman whispered to him, squeezing his shoulder. Lark’s entire body had tensed, his fists clenched and his jaw working. He could feel the rage (and the fear) boiling up within him. “Lark!” Batwoman whispered more sharply, squeezing his shoulder harder, but not enough to hurt him. Lark snapped out of it and looked at the other three who were staring at him, concerned.

“I’m okay. Sorry. I’m good, I’m good,” he replied after a deep breath. They all turned their eyes forward again, then Batwoman reached for a smoke canister and threw it.

“We move now!” Batwoman called as the canister exploded, billowing smoke all over the room. Alarms immediately blared and Grims and Reapers began the search for intruders.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a long ass time!” Lark shouted, jumping down from the ledge and into the smoke below, with Batwoman, Nightwing, and Arsenal behind him. The four of them began taking down the scientists with non-lethal shots, bolases and more. But once the smoke cleared, the Reapers and Grims threatened to overwhelm them with their sheer numbers.

“You forgot that  _ I’m  _ in this show!” came Deathstroke’s voice, as he dropped down  _ through  _ the cave ceiling above, impaling a Reaper on his sword as he landed on top of him. Lark grinned from ear to ear when he arrived.

“Five verses fifty; I like these odds,” Lark called to Deathstroke. Deathstroke turned to him and snorted.

“It’s still not a fair fight,” he answered, turning back to the two Reapers who were approaching him. “They’re way over matched.” Nightwing drew his escrima sticks, Arsenal drew his bow, and Lark drew a handgun and a katana. He turned and caught sight of Batwoman fighting her way toward the master computer.

“I’ve got your back, Batwoman!” he called, rushing after her and fending off Grims. As she arrived at the computer, she plugged a splicing device into it.

“Batgirl, can you get into their systems?” she asked over the comm. There was a silence on her end, then the sound of someone jumping into an office chair.

“On it! It’s Oracle, I made it back to the clock tower and the others are on their way; Arkham is secure! But the Joker got away,” Oracle replied.

“Color me shocked,” Batwoman replied in a flat tone.

“Kill them!” shouted a man’s voice. Lark turned toward it and saw the Mayor of Gotham City, attempted to make his escape after shouting the order. Lark turned to Arsenal, and pointed toward the Mayor.

“Arsenal!”

“On it!” Arsenal shouted back, nocking an arrow and launching it at the Mayor. As he attempted to escape, the arrow nailed him in the side; he let out a howl of pain as the blunt-headed arrow released a foam that trapped him against the cave wall.

“I’m in the system! Hold your position while I download as much as I can!” Oracle called over the comm link. Reapers and Grims descended on them in an attempt to thwart them. The sounds of combat filled the air, Lark fighting off the approaching Reapers with Batwoman at his back, both trying not to kill their enemies, but Deathstroke was less restrained in his efforts. Minutes later, however, the cavalry arrived.

“Cover your ears!” they heard Black Canary over the comm. They did so, and moments later, the Canary Cry sounded throughout the cave; Grims and Reapers fell to their knees, caught in the wave as Batman, Robin, and Black Canary arrived on the scene. Black Canary joined Lark and Batwoman in the defense of the computer while Oracle pilfered their data, while Batman and Robin backed up Nightwing and Arsenal. The left Deathstroke to his own devices, even Batman; they had their hands full at the moment.

“Enough!” shouted one man, likely their lead scientist judging from his attire. As opposed to a simple white lab coat, he bored the Symbol of Grave on the front of it. The Grims and Reapers immediately halted their assault when this man made his presence known. “Grave has tolerated your existence for long enough. Now you have the audacity to attack us here? Your insolence will be punished! Behold!” The scientist pointed toward a pool of blue liquid as the bottom of the cave. Batman’s eyes widened.

“Dionesium,” he called out. The Scientist in question grinned.

“That’s right; Dionesium, in its purest form! And we’ve created a new super weapon with it! You are no longer necessary, Subject Zero,” the man said, glaring at Lark. Lark spit on the ground and took a threatening step forward.

“You  _ ever  _ call me that again, Batman or no Batman, nobody on Earth will stop me from ripping your limbs off and killing you with them.” The scientist merely laughed at his threat.

“While you were our first success and re-creating Deathstroke, we’ve discovered something much more magnificent! Behold, our Immortal Titan!” The scientist shouted, throwing his arms out. A single Reaper, equipped with what looked like Bane’s Venom Injection system, marched toward them. But instead of the green color from the tubes, there was a blue color instead.

“We were able to reproduce what we’d done to you,  _ Subject Zero _ ,” the man said in taunt. Lark clenched his fists and gritted his teeth angrily. “Alas, it was not as effective as your experiment was. But we found this dionesium and we experimented with it. We were able to combine it with Bane’s Venom, and created “Titan”! Named after the Primordial Greek Deities, the Titans, this formula not only boosts the user’s speed, strength, and reflexes, the dionesium counters the intelligence-inhibiting effects, and instantly heals any wound sustained! It’s fitting that you should be the first test subject!” 

“In the name of Grave, you will  _ all die , _ ” The Reaper declared, turning the dial on his gauntlet for the Titan Formula apparatus. Nothing seemed to change outwardly about the man, but then he drew a pair of swords and lunged at Deathstroke with inhuman speed. Deathstroke easily blocked the attack, but he was forced back an entire foot by this Reaper’s strength. Deathstroke grunted and pushed him back, but was forced to jump backward to avoid an elbow to the face.

Batman, Robin and Black Canary charged in at this new Reaper. Showing off his new speed again, he dodged all of their initial attacks and retaliated. He threw down his sword and attacked, punching Dinah in the gut, and then throwing her into Robin. He blocked a couple of attacks from Batman, catching one of his punches. He then threw him at the attacking Nightwing. 

Nightwing jumped into the air and did a corkscrew spin over Batman, landing on his feet then charging his escrima sticks with electricity. Nightwing charged in at the Reaper and let loose a combination of escrima strikes, none of which seemed to faze the assassin at all. He then grabbed Nightwing by the throat and lifted him into the air. Arsenal fired a foam arrow at him, forcing him to drop Nightwing, and then Nightwing retreated. But the Reaper easily broke out of the foam and charged at Arsenal. Batwoman and Lark drew his attention, raining gunfire (non-lethal) at him.

“Shit, nothing’s working!” Lark hissed.

“I noticed!” Batwoman replied. The Reaper lunged in at them, but Deathstroke intercepted, stabbing him with both his blades. The Reaper faltered and looked down to see the two swords impaled through his stomach.

“Invincible my ass,” Deathstroke commented. The Reaper then started laughing and broke the blades. He ripped what remained of them out of his body, through his back and his wounds closed instantly. Before Deathstroke could react, the Reaper punched him in the face, shattering his mask and sending him flying backward.

“Did you see that?! Deathstroke just ran him through, and he healed  _ almost instantly! _ ” Arsenal shouted. The scientist in question laughed as he approached the assassin and patted him in the shoulder.

“I told you; he is our ultimate weapon! And once we refine the process, we can mass produce this serum and have our own immortal army!” The man turned to the Reaper and pointed at the group.

“Kill them.” But the Reaper refused to respond. “Are you stupid? I gave you an order! Kill them!” The Reaper slowly turned to the scientist and removed his mask; a man with chocolate brown hair and amber eyes, stared at the man with a dark look.

“Immortal, am I? Then why should I take orders from anyone? Or from you? You spineless little weasel,” the man hissed. The scientists growled at him and pulled out a trigger.

“You’ll do as I command, or--” but before he could finish, the Reaper closed the distance and stole the trigger. He broke it in his bare hand, and then beheaded the scientist.

“You aren’t calling the shots anymore,” the man said coldly, staring down at the corpse of his victim. He turned to the others and grinned.

“Now, where were we? Ah yes, I was just about to fillet you all alive. And when I’m done,  _I_ will take control of Grave.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so. Grave is over. And you with it,” Deathstroke shot back and lunged at the Reaper. He wasn't holding back this time and actually began pushing the man back, strike for strike. 

“Deathstroke the Terminator. You live up to all your hype,” the man replied, flashing a grin. He turned the dial on his Titan apparatus, and his body began to bulk up a bit. The next time Deathstroke charged in at him, The Reaper was able to match him.

“We have to do something about those damn tubes feeding him that shit,” Arsenal called out.

“How very eloquent of you. But you’re right,” Lark shot back. Batwoman trotted up to stop beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Hang back. The rest of us will distract him. When you see your moment, get in there and cut those tubes,” she whispered to him. Lark nodded in reply, and begrudgingly waited, watching as everyone else jumped into the fray, all at once.

Having to fight so many enemies at once, the Reaper raised the dial a few more times on his Titan Apparatus, causing his muscles to grow ever so slightly with each higher dosage, but his strength, speed, and reflexes increased as well, with little to no change in his overall physical appearance. The combination of Dionesium and Venom, it seemed, was extremely dangerous.

Lark watched, muscles tense, waiting for the right moment to jump in and make his move. Deathstroke, Batman, Batwoman, Robin, Black Canary, Arsenal and Nightwing were all working together, and yet this one Reaper seemed to be holding his own against  _ all of them . _ Despite their combined superior skill, that Titan pump gave him strength, speed, and reflexes beyond what even Bane could accomplish with his Venom.

Lark ground his teeth as he watched each of them get thrown aside like nothing. He  _wanted_ to get in there and help, but Batwoman seemed to have a plan. He needed to wait just a bit longer.

“Arsenal!” Nightwing called, rushing in at the Reaper from the side. Arsenal came at him from his other side. The Reaper threw a punch at Nightwing, who ducked and swung his electrified escrima sticks at his ankles. The man cursed and fell to his knees, then Arsenal swung his bow at the man’s jaw. The Reaper grunted, and faltered, but as the duo came in for another strike, The Reaper recovered. 

He ducked back and grabbed Arsenal by the arm and wrenched it behind his back. Arsenal shouted in pain as the Reaper delivered a chop to the back of his neck and threw his unconscious form at Nightwing. Nightwing grunted as he was hit and pinned to the ground and the Reaper approached him with a gun in hand.

“Game over,” he muttered.

“No!” Lark shouted angrily, charging in at The Reaper. The assassin turned toward him and fired his gun, but Lark avoided the gun fire. As he drew close, the Reaper attempted to swing at him, but Lark ducked and slid across the ground, drawing a dagger. As he came to a stop, he jumped to his feet and slashed at the tubes. He ripped one before the Reaper could attack, then another, and another. As the Reaper tried to clothesline him, Lark grunted and grabbed a hold of his arm, then stabbed the control device on his arm.

“You bastard! I’ll kill you!” the Reaper grunted. Deathstroke came up from behind him and ran him through with a dagger, and then again with a hidden blade on his gauntlet. The Reaper dropped Lark and gasped in pain.

“What was it you said? Ah yes, game over,” Lark taunted, getting back to his feet. The Reaper grinned and turned to backhand Deathstroke; his wounds healer despite being cut off from his Titan Serum.

“Dammit! There’s too much still in his system!” Batwoman called. Lark was busy dragging Arsenal off of Nightwing and moving him to safety. Black Canary took him and retreated from the base.

“Keep him safe,” Lark called after her.

“I will,” she called back. Batman and Robin charged at the Reaper next, while Lark dragged Nightwing out of the way; his leg had been injured and couldn’t really put up an effective defense any more. But as Lark looked up, he watched in horror as Robin had been thrown into a tank nearby.

“Robin!” he shouted, rushing to the teen’s side while Batman grappled with their foe. He knelt down beside Robin and was relieved to find he was alive, but unconscious. When he looked back toward the fight, he watched the Reaper break Batman’s arm and toss him aside. He then turned his attention onto Batwoman.

“Hey!” Lark shouted, drawing a pair of daggers. The Reaper looked toward him and grinned, cracking his knuckles.

“Ah yes,  _ Subject Zero _ . You were supposed to be the first in a line of Grave’s super soldiers. Too bad you made the wrong choice,” the Reaper taunted him. Lark snorted, flashing a grin back.

“I’m nobody’s weapon. Especially not Grave’s. I made the only right choice, and told Grave where to shove it,” Lark snapped back at him. The sound of gunshots rang out from behind the assassin, who turned to see Batwoman firing non-lethal shots at him. He turned back to Lark, opting to ignore her.

“Hey, pay attention, asshole!” Lark growled, sliding across the ground and slashing at the Reaper’s ankles. The man hissed as the blades sliced through his ankles, blood spilling from the wounds, but then healing seconds later. He turned to see Lark spinning through the air, blades of steel flashing as he sliced at the assassin, who managed to avoid some of the attacks, but took several cuts from them.

“Stop,” Batman growled, forcing himself up to his feet. Batwoman glanced over at him, then around the room at everyone else. Most of them were down and injured; this was bad. She looked around the room for anything that would give her an advantage, and spotted a weapon wrack on the other side of the room. She ran toward it but was stopped by a loud, pained shout. The assassin had landed a blow to Lark’s stomach, then grabbed him by the throat.

“Lark!” she called out. The Reaper grinned and punched him again and again, then slammed him into the ground.

“You’re a failed experiment. Nothing more. It’s time to terminate the project,” the Reaper taunted, slamming him into the ground again. Colors exploded behind Lark’s eyes with each blow. His consciousness began fading in and out. The Reaper lifted him up again and produced a hidden blade from his gauntlet. “Farewell, Subject Zero.” 

Just as he reared back to impale Lark through the throat, another gunshot rang out. The assassin looked down to see a gunshot wound through his chest, coughing up blood. He turned to the source to see Batwoman wielding an Apokalyptian rifle.

“Put. Him. Down,” she ordered.

“Batwoman, don’t do it!” Batman ordered, managing to get back up onto his feet. The Reaper laughed at her and threw Lark aside.

“It’s going to take more than that to kill me,” he taunted.

“Batwoman!” Batman shouted.

“I know,” Batwoman replied evenly.

“Take the shot Katie. It’s the only way,” she heard her father say over her comm. Batwoman aimed the gun as the Reaper charged at her, and took a breath. Then... _ blam .  _ The shot pierced the Reaper’s skull, through his forehead and he stopped in his tracks. He growled as the wound slowly started to heal.

“This...won’t...stop me,” he ground out. Batwoman took another shot. Then another. After one more shot, the Reaper fell to his knees. “I’m...Immortal,” he murmured, the dionesium in his system running out, attempting to heal the damage. But he didn’t have enough left. He fell to the ground, dead.

“What did you do?” Batman growled at her. Batwoman turned to Batman and glared.

“I did what I had to,” she hissed at him, stalking past him and toward Lark. She knelt down beside him to see if he was okay, but he was barely conscious.

“Ungh...I feel like I was hit by a truck,” he groaned as she slowly helped him sit up.

“We’re going to talk about this--” Batman growled, but Deathstroke grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him away.

“Pull your self-righteous cowl out of your ass. That thing was dangerous. In case you didn’t notice, it had the strength and speed to take on  _ all of us  _ at once,” Deathstroke growled. Batman grabbed him by the front of his armor and yanked him forward.

“That  _ thing _ was a person--”

“Argue later! We need to destroy this place and get out of here!” Batwoman snapped at the both of them. She wrapped one of Lark’s arms around his shoulders and together they moved toward the computer. “Oracle, did you get everything you needed?” she asked.

“I did,” Oracle replied after a brief silence on her end. “Did you really--” she started, then Jacob cut in.

“She did. My Katie did what she had to. Regardless of what anyone else says or thinks.” Batwoman smiled softly at her father;s reassuring words, but glanced over at the corpse. If there had been any other way…

“The charges are set. We can’t destroy this place with Arkham above us, but I’ve set some electromagnetic charges that’ll fry all of the technology here, rendering it inoperable,” Batman called. Batwoman nodded.

“Good. Let’s go. We can hunt the rest of Grave down later,” she said, moving past Batman without so much as a sideways glance. “Robin and Nightwing need help,” she added.

“Slade, grab Dick for me. And don’t hurt him, or I’ll--”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry about it,” Deathstroke replied, moving across the cave and hauling Nightwing up, while Batman retrieved Robin. Once they were clear, and Oracle had announced Grave’s retreat from the cave systems, Batman triggered the EMPs. The cave shook slightly, but it was over.

“It’s done,” Batman commented, glaring daggers at Batwoman from behind.

“Good,” Lark called back without looking back. “Now take your attitude and pissy little glare and shove them both.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...As far as Jason is concerned, should he keep Lark and make it his own, away from Batwoman? Or should he continue as Red X? Or maybe a new identity, and what should it be? Gimme your thoughts in the comments; I haven't quite decided what to do with that bit yet. :P


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just wondering...what’s next for you, Lark? I’m guessing you’re thinking about moving on, and up, huh?” she asked. Lark smirked and looked back out toward the city, then up at the diamond dotted sky.  
> “I don’t know,” he admitted honestly. Batwoman patted his shoulder and back reassuringly.  
> “Well,” Batwoman started, shifting to sit cross-legged on the roof. Lark joined her and sat across from her. “Maybe it’s time you started asking yourself the big questions.”  
> “Like?”  
> “Like, who are you? And what do _you_ want?” Batwoman asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, we have reached the end of this particular series. And it kinda makes me sad. ;_; I really enjoyed writing this series, and I really hope you enjoyed reading it. ^^ Maybe I'll add one more part. Some small, post-series side stories or something for lols, like I'm doing with my Twinsverse and Arkham's Red Hood series. But for now, we're reached the end of the road. I appreciate all of your comments, even if I don't respond to them all; if I don't it's because idk what to say, lol.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

“It’s done,” Oracle declared, appearing over a webcam in the Batcave, from the Clock Tower. A week had passed since the raid on Grave’s base; the slaves had been freed and the people they experimented on were getting the help they needed. More importantly, Oracle had managed to decrypt what data they’d gathered from Grave’s systems. 

“I’ve managed to decrypt what we were able to gather from Grave’s base, underneath Arkham. From there, I transmitted it to the Watchtower. While Grave still isn’t public knowledge, the entire Justice League is now aware of their existence, and we’ve got more than a dozen locations, worldwide, to begin the hunt for them,” she finished, leaning back in her chair and looking pretty satisfied with herself.

Lark and Batwoman were out on patrol, perched atop Von Gruenwald Tower, and were patched into the Batcave for the news, as was Jacob and Nightwing.

“So then it’s only a matter of time now before we drive Grave from Gotham City permanently,” Batman commented. “But there is another matter we need to discuss,” he began, but Batwoman rolled her eyes.

“And we’re not going to discuss it. I’ve already explained myself; I made the call that needed to be made. I saw no other alternative, and took the shot. I was taught the rules of engagement, and I engaged. End of discussion,” Batwoman snapped.

“You’re damn right,” Jacob chimed in over their communicator from Batwoman’s Command Center.

“We’re not--” Batman started, but Batwoman cut the feed and ended the transmission. Lark looked over at her, the corner of his lip tugging into a smirk.

“You’re not concerned he’ll come after you?” he asked. Batwoman snorted and waved her hand dismissively.

“I’m his cousin, and a Kane. He won’t. He knows the Kanes are a military family, and I think he suspects his mother would have made the same call,” Batwoman replied. 

“You’re damn right she would have. Your aunt, she wasn’t military, but believe you me, she would have done what she thought was necessary to protect her own,” Jacob replied.

“Martha Wayne? I didn’t know her, but she seemed so--”

“Oh, believe me, she was a wonderful woman. You’d be hard pressed to find a more kind and caring person. But  _damn_ if she wasn’t a force to be reckoned with, if the need arose.” Batwoman chuckled in response and shared a look with Lark.

“You should tell him about--”Batwoman started with a grin spreading across her face, but Jacob laughed, seemingly knowing where she was going.

“Oh that’s a good story. We were kids, right? I wanted to prank Martha so I snuck into her bedroom while she was outside having a tea party with her friends,” Jacob started. Lark started to chuckle a bit as he listened, sharing a look with Batwoman. “So I snuck into her room, and shaved a couple of her dolls bald.”

“Oh no!” Lark commented as he and Batwoman shared a laugh. “What happened next?” Jacob chuckled.

“Well, Martha came back inside after her friend went home. She found the dolls, and  _ she was pissed. _ She came looking for me and shouted at me ‘what did you do to my dolls?!’” Batwoman snorted with held back laughter. 

“Here’s the good part,” she said, glancing at Lark who was grinning from ear to ear.

“Well, little Martha, small as she was...she  _beat the tar_ outta me for it, whacked me in the head with one of the dolls. Ma and Pa had to pull us apart, and put us both in timeout,” Jacob finished, to which both Lark and Batwoman let out a laugh.

“You would have liked her, I think. Auntie Martha was the best,” Batwoman beamed. A silence settled over the three of them, with Batwoman and Lark crouched down side-by-side, just staring out over the city. 

Lark closed his eyes for a moment and just let himself hear the sound of the cars zooming by below, the sounds of people on the streets, the honking horns,  _ the heartbeat _ of the city. He remembered lulling himself to sleep to this, every night, growing up on the streets. It took a long time to get used to the sound of silence at night, up in the penthouse. When he opened his eyes again, he looked over at Batwoman who was smiling at him.

“What?” he asked, lips tugging into a smile. 

“Just wondering...what’s next for you, Lark? I’m guessing you’re thinking about moving on, and up, huh?” she asked. Lark smirked and looked back out toward the city, then up at the diamond dotted sky.

“I don’t know,” he admitted honestly. Batwoman patted his shoulder and back reassuringly.

“Well,” Batwoman started, shifting to sit cross-legged on the roof. Lark joined her and sat across from her. “Maybe it’s time you started asking yourself the big questions.”

“Like?”

“Like, who are you? And what do  _ you _ want?” Batwoman asked. Lark glanced toward the city and let his mind wander for a bit. Batwoman reached out and gently touched his shoulder, drawing his attention back to her. “It’s okay to be unsure. To not know right away. Take some time. Think. Reflect. And when you choose your path, I’m sure it’ll be the one that’s right for you.”

* * *

Jason arrived at one of Slade’s Safe Houses in New York after having tracked him down. He took the Kane private jet, despite Kate’s misgivings about him tracking down Deathstroke, but she trusted Jason. He hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to him after they defeated Grave; he’d already up and left by the time he got back to Avalon Hill.

Slade pulled up to the driveway of his safe house to find Jason standing beside the door, his legs crossed, leaning against the wall, and reading a book. As he came to a stop, he hopped out of his car and gave the young man a blank look. He then turned and grabbed some groceries out of the back seat.

“So Deathstroke goes grocery shopping like us simple folk. Who’d’ve thunk it,” Jason teased, flashing a smirk. Slade ignored him for the moment as he hoisted some of the bags over his shoulder.

“Slade does, not Deathstroke,” Slade commented, moving toward the door. Jason glanced back at his book for a moment as the man fiddled with his keys.

“Right, forgot. You’re two different people,” Jason answered. Slade snorted.

“I ever tell you, you’re a pain in my ass? There’s more bags in the car; make yourself useful, you little twit,” Slade snapped. Jason just grinned and pushed away from the wall, heading to the car and grabbing the last four bags out. He closed the door and then followed the man inside. 

“All the time,” Jason replied. Slade set the bags down in the kitchen and began putting things away, glancing only briefly back at Jason.

“What do you want, kid? The mission’s over. You come to get on my last nerve?” Jason gave a chuckle of amusement and helped the man put his groceries away.

“No, as fun as that sounds. I came to thank you--”

“Don’t start getting sentimental on me. I might just throw up,” Slade interrupted. Jason rolled his eyes as he opened the fridge and put some milk and eggs inside.

“Ha ha, you’re  _ very funny . _ No, I came to thank you for saving my ass. And the training,” Jason replied. Slade sighed as he finished putting things away, then turned to Jason.

“If you’re expecting my heart to grow three sizes, hold your breath.”

“Are you  _ always  _ this much of an asshole?”

“It’s part of my charm.” Slade grinned at the young man, then Jason started laughing, despite his best efforts to remain stone-faced. When he regained his composure, he held out his hand to Slade.

“I’m serious though; thank you. You said some things that I think I needed to hear. I think you were just being a bag of dicks, but it helped, regardless,” Jason said to him. Slade looked down at his hand, contemplating it in silence for a few moments, then sighed and shook it.

“Well, what can I say; you’re a little prick, but I kinda like you,” he said as he turned toward the cabinets and reached inside for a couple of glasses. He moved past Jason and grabbed beer out of the fridge, pouring two glasses and handing one to Jason.

“Still only twenty.”

“Still don’t give a shit.”

“Classy.”

“Anyway,” Slade continued then “as I was saying, I kinda like you. So I promise I won’t kill you the next time we inevitably cross paths.” Jason arched an eyebrow and raised his glass with Slade’s lightly clinking them together. “I’ll just kick your ass.”

* * *

Jason sat on the couch in Dick’s apartment, staring down at the floor with his hands clasped as he waited for him to return. He looked up at Dick came back from the kitchen with a couple of soda cans in hand. He tossed one to Jason, who effortlessly caught it out of the air.

“Thanks,” Jason replied, cracking it open and taking a sip. Dick flashed a smile and did the same, before sitting down on the couch beside him. 

“So...to what do I owe the visit, Jay? You sounded pretty serious when you asked to come and talk to me. Is something wrong?” Dick asked. Jason took another sip of his soda and then set it down on the coffee table. He shifted on the couch a bit to face toward Dick and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah. I...need your help, Dickie,” Jason said softly, looking up at Dick with a look as if he were a lost puppy. Dick smiled in reply and shifted on the couch as well, to face Jason. “I...don’t know what to do with myself now. I can’t be Lark anymore; I’ve outgrown that role. And Red X was born from a place of pain, and anger. That doesn’t feel right for me.”

“So you’re thinking about crafting a new identity, something that’s genuinely you?” Dick asked. Jason nodded.

“The thing is, I’m not sure...who I want to be, y’know? I mean, I’d like to keep being a Bat. But I’d also like to finish school. I can’t really do both of those things if I’m going to West Point,” Jason explained, lips curving into a smirk. Dick chuckled a bit and nodded.

“Yeah, that’d be a bit difficult.”

“Now that I’m  _officially_ back from being  _ kidnapped _ , I  _ could  _ go back to West Point. But I’m thinking of transferring my credits to Gotham University. I’ll finish out my degree there. I want to stay close to home, and continue my night work, y’know?”

“I do.” Another silence pervaded the room, with Dick afraid to break Jason’s train of thought, and Jason not sure what to say.

“How did you...become Nightwing?” Jason asked. Dick put on a thoughtful face at that question and sipped his soda once more.

“Well, that’s a bit of a story. I was 18 when Bruce fired me,” Dick started. Jason snorted in response and rolled his eyes, but Dick smiled and continued “Robin was everything to me, so I didn’t know what to do with myself after that. I left the manor and kind of wandered for a bit. I didn’t know what to do with my life. Sound familiar?” Dick asked with a teasing grin. Jason grinned back and playfully nudged him in the side with his elbow.

“I went to see Clark in Metropolis. I figured maybe talking with him might help me figure things out. Well, things didn’t go quite as planned,” Dick started with a slight chuckle. “When I arrived at The Daily Planet, someone was trying to blow it up. Fortunately “Superman” happened to swoop in after I so nobly threw myself off of the building with the bomb in my arms--”

“Gee, I wonder how he did that,” Jason cut in. It was Dick’s turn to nudge him this time.

“Anyway, Superman saved my ass, and the Daily Planet, then took me to the Fortress of Solitude, so we could talk. It was there that he told me about the Kryptionian God, Nightwing, created by Rao to hunt down evil where it hid in the shadows.”

“So what then? Is that how you became Nightwing?” Jason asked. Dick chuckled a bit and shook his head.

“Not yet. I went back to Haly’s Circus, back to my roots. To my home. I stayed there for a little while and I was happy.”

“But?”

“But...I felt like I was meant for  _ more . _ I began thinking about my time as Robin. I was a hero, and I liked fighting crime, liked helping people. And I was  _good_ at it. And I decided that I wanted to keep doing that. And then I started thinking about Nightwing, the Kryptonian God Clark told me about--”

“And then you became Nightwing?” Jason asked. Dick chuckled in amusement and gave a nod in reply.

“So quick to get to the end of the story! But yes. I became Nightwing.” Jason nodded and diverted his eyes to the floor again, his thoughts began working. Dick watched him in silence for a time, unwilling to interrupt his thoughts. After a full minute of silence, Jason heaved a sigh and leaned back on the couch.

“Alright, I’ve got something else important to ask you,” Jason said then. Dick leaned against the back of the couch.

“What’s that?”

“Well, I was wondering if...you wouldn’t mind living with your boyfriend?” Jason asked, lips curving into a smirk. Dick’s face lit up as if it were Christmas Day.

“You want to move in with me?” he asked in a cheery tone. Jason chuckled and nodded in reply.

“I do. Er,” he started, looking around the apartment “I mean...even despite the fact that you live in a pigsty.” Dick giggled a bit and shook his head. “Provided you don’t mind having a cat. I’m planning on bringing Figaro with me,” he added. Dick nodded and leaned forward.

“I don’t mind at all,” he murmured, closing the distance between them and capturing Jason’s lips in a tender kiss.

* * *

Nightwing stood beside Batwoman atop a building across the way from their shared target; Batwoman had tracked a drug ring that was dealing to children in Gotham, all the way here in Bludhaven and so she and Nightwing decided to team up. They were merely waiting for one more.

“He’s late,” Nightwing commented. Batwoman glanced over at him, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Well, in his defense, he’d been out of the game for a while. Focusing on his studies at Gotham University.” Nightwing turned his head toward Batwoman and shrugged his shoulders, conceding her point.

“Point taken. Honestly, I’m kind of proud of him,” Nightwing answered, a smile gracing his lips. “They’re moving now,” Nightwign said then as he saw someone moving out of an apartment building across the way.

“He’ll be here,” Batwoman commented.

“He’s here,” came a voice from behind them. Batwoman and Nightwing turned just in time to see Jason touch down on the roof behind them. He was garbed in black gear from head to toe, made of the same materials he used to create his Red X gear. 

He had on a black domino mask, black paramilitary pants with black knee-high military boots, and gauntlets that stretched to his elbows. He had a black and red utility belt slung loosely around his waist, and he had only one shoulder pad on his right shoulder, which bore the same symbol as on his chest. The entirety of his armor was trimmed with red glow patterns, but the most defining feature of his armor was the symbol on his chest; a red Phoenix with its wings outstretched, was emblazoned across his chest, a silhouette with feather pattern and small red “sparks” falling away from the wings and the entire symbol gave off a red glow.

“Sorry I’m late. Making a few last minute adjustments to my gear,” Jason grinned, making his way toward Nightwing and Batwoman. Batwoman gave him a look over and smiled approvingly.

“I like it. It’s definitely you,” Batwoman said to him. Nightwing walked around him and stopped behind him for a moment to stare at his... _ assets _ .

“Damn, your ass looks nice in this costume,” Nightwing commented. Jason laughed out loud as Batwoman rolled her eyes, despite the smirk on her face.

“You two can flirt later. We’ve got a mission to take care of,” she scolded, but with a playful edge in her tone. Nightwing chuckled a bit as he wrapped an arm around Jason’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his jaw.

“By the way, what do we call you?” he asked. Jason’s lips curved into a grin.

“I was thinking...Flamebird,” he replied. Nightwing arched an eyebrow. “You mean after the Kryptonian God? Nightwing’s lover,” he asked slowly and deliberately as a grin crept across his face. Flamebird chuckled in amusement.

“Gotham’s got enough vigilantes. I thought maybe you could use a... _ partner _ to help out here in the Haven.” He leaned in and kissed Nightwing, a kiss the older man gladly returned.

“Get a room after the mission, you two!” Batwoman scolded again. The two men parted and approached Batwoman, stopping beside her. “Now’s our chance to make our move. You ready Nightwing?” She asked, turning to Nightwing, who nodded in response. “And Flamebird?” 

“Let’s kick some ass.”


End file.
